25 Years
by Ardna
Summary: Kathy Sanders, a medical doctor in Atlantis, unexpectedly runs into an old friend: Lt. Colonel John Sheppard. They knew each other as kids, but now they are two very different people. Can they become friends again, or will their secrets get in the way?
1. An Unplanned Reunion

Kathy jerked upright, panting heavily. Overheated and clammy, she shivered, trying to shake the nightmare from her mind. With a groan, she fell back onto her sheets.

Kathy's eyes kept blinking, trying to clear her blurry vision, and finally out of sheer exasperation she wiped the rheum away with her fingers. Her room was still dim, so it must be early. She turned her head to the left, seeking out her clock. The glaring red letters mercilessly told her that it would 4:00 a.m. in two minutes.

Kathy sighed and hit her blankets irritably. She didn't bother going back to sleep: she'd tried that before, and it hadn't worked. Besides, she was in no mood to return to the place of her nightmares.

"Well, might as well get up," Kathy muttered to herself.

She pushed her blankets to the side and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. She let out a monstrous yawn and stretched, listening to the loud poppings coming from the area of her back. She stood up and walked over to one of her windows.

The dawn had not yet come, and the city of Atlantis shone its golden light upon the waters it rested on, prettier than any jewel in existence.

"Home, sweet home," commented Kathy.

For a large portion of her life, she had been the only child with too-busy parents. As a result, she had made a habit of thinking aloud; as a kid it had helped her feel less lonely. Although no one would have guessed that she had been lonely in the first place.

Kathy smiled at the view one more time before heading off to get ready for another workday. She chuckled as her hand moved for a doorknob - even after four years, she still caught herself looking for a handle instead of a motion sensor. She shrugged at her mistake and swung her hand past the blue light beside the door, and walked through after it opened.

Later, decked out in her medical personnel uniform, Kathy shuffled into the mess hall - or was it the cafeteria? Dining room? Whatever, it was the place people went to eat.

_Restaurant?_ Kathy found herself wondering.

She headed towards the smell of brewing coffee. She poured herself a steaming mug of the energizing brown liquid, inhaling the fragrance appreciatively as she spread cream cheese on a bagel. She placed the coffee and bagel on a small tray and scanned the mess hall for occupants, more out of habit than anything else.

There was no one that she could see, but why would that be surprising? It was _four in the morning_. No one in his or her right mind - _Oh wait, there's someone_. A man was sitting at a table by one of the many large windows in the cafeteria. He was dressed almost completely in black, and since Kathy was still about half-asleep, she hadn't noticed him until now.

She walked over to the table, looking at him curiously. Black meant he was a military guy. She didn't know many of them personally, but most she could identify on sight. She didn't recognize this man, but he still seemed familiar somehow.

"Hey," Kathy greeted him as she approached his table. The man looked up from the book he was reading, a hand holding an almond freezing halfway up to his mouth.

"Hey," he repeated, looking at her with surprise.

Kathy knew what he was thinking: _You're one of those science geeks; you shouldn't be lucid until 0900 hours!_

"You mind if I join you?" Kathy asked, nodding down at the table.

The soldier glanced down at the chairs on the other side of the table, uttered a soft "oh" of comprehension, and removed his propped-up boots from the top of the table and nodded at Kathy.

"Sure," he said, "Go ahead."

"Thanks." Kathy smiled and sat down on the opposite side of the table, not quite across from the man. She stared out at the City, her fingers wrapped around her warm mug of coffee. She felt more than saw the man's assessing gaze move off her, and she assumed that he had gone back to reading his book. Obviously, he wasn't the chatty sort.

Kathy took a sip of her coffee, surreptitiously glancing over at the man. She had been right, he was back to reading his book again. Kathy looked at him carefully; she wanted to remember him if they ever bumped into each other again.

He had dark hair, maybe black or a very dark brown, spiking all over the place in a ridiculous cowlick. It looked almost rebelliously non-military, and Kathy liked that. He wasn't too stiff, she was sure of it. It was hard to tell since he was sitting, but she didn't think that he was a very short or tall guy. And his ears were shaped in very odd way; nearly pointed.

_Now where have I seen ears like that before?_ Kathy wondered. _Other than in Lord of the Rings, Star Trek, and every Santa Claus movie ever made._

Kathy's mind drifted off somewhere. Aware that she was looking in his direction, the man's eyes lifted from the pages of his book and looked over at Kathy. He seemed to recognize her far-off expression, and he may have smiled.

"Thinking of something?" he remarked.

"Huh?" Kathy snapped back into reality, unable to remember what exactly she had been thinking of. "Uh, no. I don't remember."

The guy didn't say anything, but Kathy thought that the squint in his eyes was caused by a smile he had hidden with his book. Face warming with embarrassment, Kathy looked back out over the City, taking another sip of her coffee. Since neither she nor the soldier said anything, Kathy's mind slowly drifted away again. Getting less than five hours of sleep when it wasn't completely necessary did not agree with her.

Another man entered the mess hall, wide-awake as could be. He spotted his fellow militant and walked over.

"Mornin', Colonel," he greeted the man.

"Morning, Crawford," the colonel replied without glancing up from his book. "I see you're still afraid of drinking coffee."

"Just because I want to avoid unwanted addiction doesn't mean I'm afraid of caffeine," Crawford protested.

"Oh? You got another name for it?"

"Yep: wisdom."

The colonel rolled his eyes and closed his book.

"Crawford, you have no idea how many times I've wondered how a guy like you made it to the rank of Major," he said. "Or for that matter, what a guy like you is doing in the Marine Corps."

"I'm not going to answer that question for you."

"Why not? You don't like the answer?"

"No, I just like to watch you Air Force gents stand around and scratch your heads."

The colonel glared at Crawford. "I think McKay does that enough, thanks," he said dryly.

"McKay confuses you? I'm sure he'll love to hear that."

"McKay confuses everyone," the man said with finality. "Now shut up and go drink some coffee."

"Over my dead body!" Crawford said decisively.

"That can be arranged," the colonel replied mildly, opening his book again and returning to his story.

"Very funny, Colonel," Crawford said. "But I've got too many friends to just vanish without notice."

"Really."

"Really. So, sorry, you won't get - hey." Crawford pointed a finger at Kathy, who was still staring out the window blankly. "Who's the zombie?"

The colonel tried not to snort, but he hadn't been expecting Crawford's comment, so he did anyway. Both men froze, much like a pair of rascals caught dipping the girls' pigtails into the inkwells when Kathy said in sarcastic tones:

"The zombie is still in possession of its brain and ears, and her name is Katherine." She looked over at Crawford, who was looking at her with unmasked surprise. "G'morning. Crawford, wasn't it?"

"Major," Crawford added.

Kathy looked up and wondered why it was that people never believed in first names anymore. "Ah. Does Major Crawford have a first name?"

"No."

"So your mother named you Major. That's a bit… different."

"Mom always did have a thing for singularity."

Kathy's eyebrows rose. "Singularity. Big word for a Marine."

Crawford shrugged. "Stereotypes don't apply to everyone."

"Obviously," Kathy nodded. "I never heard that Marines were so… humorous." She switched her gaze onto the colonel as his eyes crinkled up while he hid the rest of his face behind the book. He was definitely grinning this time. "Care to enlighten us with the reason for your smile?" Kathy asked.

If the colonel was surprised by the fact that Kathy knew he had been grinning, he didn't show it. He simply lowered his book and offered a smirk. "Oh, I was just wondering whether or not I should tell you Major Crawford's real name…" he allowed his voice to trail off, merely expanding his smirk to a grin as Crawford directed a look of murder down at him.

"Really?" Kathy's eyebrows rose again, and she watched the two men curiously. "That's very… interesting."

Crawford muttered something about court martials and assaulting superior officers under his breath. The colonel chuckled.

"So what is it, then?" Kathy asked.

The colonel slid a look up at Crawford, as though weighing the options, but Kathy already knew what he had decided. Crawford shook his head emphatically and the colonel grinned in response. "Sammy L. Crawford, Major."

Crawford wilted. Kathy's head tilted and she looked at him with puzzlement. "Sammy's not a bad name," she said. "It makes you seem more… approachable. Yeah."

Crawford looked at her pointedly. "That's the point, Doctor."

Kathy paused for a moment, then realized. _Right. A Marine would not appreciate having an 'approachable' name when they're supposed to be big tough soldiers._ "I promise I won't tell," she said.

Crawford seemed doubtful. Kathy decided that he'd had enough humiliation (but Sammy still wasn't a horrible name. He could have been named Methuselah or worse) and turned her focus onto the man she was sharing a table with. "So what's your name? I never got it."

"Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard," the man said without missing a beat. "You new here? Don't think I've seen you around before."

"No, actually, I've been here since the beginning," Kathy informed him. "Almost four years now, isn't it? Are _you_ new?"

"Nope. Been here the whole the time, too."

"And we've never seen each other." Kathy shook her head and chuckled. "The universe has the weirdest sense of humor."

Sheppard shrugged noncommittally. "And what about you?" he asked after a moment. "What's your name?"

"Oh, it's..." Kathy's reply dropped off as something occurred to her. She stared at Sheppard in astonishment. "John _Sheppard_?"

"Yeah. You remember me now?"

"Maybe… S-H-E-P-P-A-R-D?"

"Yeah."

"John with an H?"

"Mm-hm."

Kathy blinked slowly.

"Oh, good grief," she said. "This has got to be the weirdest thing ever."

Sheppard looked confused by statement, and maybe a little hurt. "Weird?"

"I think I know you."

"That isn't really weird," Crawford pointed out. "Sheppard's the Chief Military Officer. You've probably heard of him dozens of times"

"No, that's not what I'm thinking of. Colonel Sheppard, have you ever been to Arizona?"

Sheppard stared at Kathy. "What?"

"Flagstaff, to be specific."

"Maybe…"

"1980-1984?"

Sheppard's eyes widened, and his mouth opened slightly. A hand came up and pointed at Kathy. "That," he said, "is creepy. How the heck did you know?"

Kathy swallowed nervously. She was wide-awake now; in fact, she was starting to think the shock would keep her awake for the next week.

"I know that," she said slowly, "because I was there." She rushed on before Sheppard had a chance to say anything else. "You don't recognize because I died my hair black and I'm a lot taller and older and everything, and I _was_ eleven last time we saw each other, oh, twenty-five years ago? Anyway, I never would have thought that I would find _you_ here, and aren't you supposed to be in Oxford or something by now?"

Kathy stopped and stared at Sheppard expectantly. Sheppard blinked. His mouth hung open and closed abruptly, then fell open again.

"Died your hair…" he said slowly after a pause.

"Uh-huh." Kathy nodded rapidly, willing the man's thinking gears to rotate faster. Crawford looked back and forth between Kathy and Sheppard multiple times, obviously intrigued - and possibly amused - by the whole thing.

"Flagstaff, Arizona…" Sheppard said, still speaking with about 0% comprehension.

"Yeah. I lived across the street."

"1980…?"

Kathy sighed, her shoulders slumping. "You don't remember, do you," she said unhappily. "That or I've just freaked out a guy I've never met."

Crawford snorted at that comment. Kathy glared at him, and her fingers drummed the table's surface. Sheppard glanced down at her hand, then back up at her face. Realization was certainly taking its sweet time to dawn.

"Across the street…"

"Yeah."

Sheppard stared at her incredulously.

"Kathy Sanders?" he asked.

Kathy's eyes snapped wide, and she jumped to her feet, arms raised in a gesture of triumph.

"Yes!" she exclaimed, "That's me! Katherine Sanders! Kathy Sanders! Doctor! Whatever!"

Sheppard still looked confused. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

Kathy's arms swung down. Her visage made it very clear how suddenly awkward she found this situation.

"You know, I could ask you the same thing," she said. "Aren't you supposed to be a history teacher by now?"

Crawford guffawed and Sheppard glared him down into silence. Kathy's head suddenly tilted up, and her brow furrowed. "Is it just me, or is brighter in here?"

"It's brighter," Crawford nodded. "Sun's coming up."

He looked over at one of the entrances to the mess hall as several Marines entered. "Oh, there's my team." He saluted Sheppard, and nodded at Kathy. "Colonel. Doctor." Then with a sharp turn the man was walking away to join his fellow Marines.

Kathy watched him leave, shaking her head. "Someone didn't jump on the bandwagon to maturity," she commented.

"As I recall, you weren't too desperate to do that either," Sheppard said with a peculiar smile.

"True," Kathy admitted. She looked back out the window. "Crawford was right, the sun is coming up. Must be sometime after five, then."

Sheppard glanced down at his watch. "Five twenty-eight."

Kathy smiled. "A couple minutes and the lightshow begins," she said.

Sheppard said nothing. He had seen the lightshow Kathy was talking about for about four years now, and if her love for the sun's daily sinkings and risings had endured through her adulthood, she wouldn't appreciate him interrupting.

Soon the glorious golden globe of Lantea's sun appeared on the watery horizon, lighting the world with a new day. Kathy's eyes drank in the glorious colors blossoming around the orb.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to this," she commented quietly.

"I guess some things never get old," Sheppard replied.

Kathy started, having forgotten about Sheppard for the moment, and turned back to him. "So where were we?" she asked.

"Wondering what we're doing here."

"Ah, right. You're supposed to be a historian, an archeologist, or a history teacher…"

"And you're supposed to be a painter or a pianist."

Kathy shrugged. "Stuff happened. What about you?"

"Stuff happened, too."

"A lot, I'm guessing."

"Yep."

Kathy glanced out the window again. "What time did you say it was again?" she asked.

"Five twenty-eight. It's five thirty-four now."

"Five thirty-four?" Kathy grimaced. "Oh, I just remembered! I have to go take care of some _really_ important things." She stood up. "Sorry," she apologized, "I have to go now."

"Oh." Sheppard's expression was a mixture of disappointment, relief, and indifference.

"Hey, we could meet up later today and have twenty-five-year recap over lunch," Kathy suggested. "That work for you?"

"Sure."

"Great." Kathy started to walk away, but paused and turned back to face Sheppard again. "Oh, and another thing: could we have a table to ourselves? I don't know your team really well, and I'd feel pretty awkward around them."

"Okay."

"Thanks. See you then."

Kathy started to walk away again, but paused once more. "You know, you still don't talk very much," she commented. "I guess some things never change."

Sheppard shrugged. "I guess so."

Kathy shrugged back and walked out of the mess hall. As she went through the corridors and halls of Atlantis, she found a friend of hers, Dr. Jennifer Keller.

"Jennifer," Kathy greeted her with a smile, "You're up early."

"I was about to say the same thing to you," Jennifer smiled. Although she was Kathy's superior now, the two had been good friends for a while, having many things in common. "We were meeting for coffee today," Jennifer said, "remember?"

"Oh…" Kathy looked away from Jennifer. "About that. Can we do it some other time? I need to talk to you about something, alone and preferably where we're less likely to be interrupted."

Jennifer looked surprised by Kathy's request. Kathy was usually completely at ease to talk about almost anything in front of anyone. "Is something wrong, Kathy?" she asked.

"No. Yes. I don't know. Your quarters or mine?"

"Well, if you don't want us to be bothered, your quarters are a little further off from everyone else than mine…"

"Great. Let's go."

Kathy headed for one of the transporters.

"Kathy, what's bothering you?" Jennifer asked, following as Kathy stepped inside.

"I just ran into someone I last saw twenty and some years ago," Kathy said in a strained voice.

"Oh. One of the doctors?"

"No. Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard."

Jennifer stared at Kathy in shock as the doors slid closed. "_Who_?"


	2. Concerns

Jennifer shook her head in wonder. "I never would have thought that you and Colonel Sheppard knew each other."

"We were practically siblings," Kathy said. "I saw him as the brother I didn't have." In a softer voice, she added, "To me, he was my only real friend."

Jennifer nodded. She had heard about Kathy's long estrangement from her parents. Thank God that they had reconciled before she had left for Atlantis. Somehow, Kathy didn't seem like the sort who easily forgave people who hurt her.

"So this why you wanted to cancel our coffee date?" she asked.

"That, and John – _Colonel_ Sheppard – was in there."

"Oh."

"The thing is I figured that you've worked with him, since you've sort of been promoted."

"Yes, I've worked with the Colonel a few times," Jennifer nodded. "Why do you ask?"

"Ehhh…" Kathy shrugged awkwardly. "I'm meeting up with John – Colonel Sheppard – for lunch; we're gonna catch up then. But… well, I don't really know him anymore."

Kathy walked over to her window and looked out over the City, searching for words.

"The John Sheppard I remember never would have become the killer that this new John Sheppard is," she said worriedly. "The John Sheppard I remember never would have shot his fellow man, much less his leader, even if it was necessary. Sure, he'd get into a fistfight at a moment's notice, just like any boy, but he'd never have become what he is now."

Kathy looked over at Jennifer, her gaze confused and troubled. "I feel like a little sister who's just had every good and true thing she knew about her big brother shattered to pieces. How can I know what to expect from him? He's a stranger to me, Jennifer, he's done horrible and bloody things that go against every moral I believe in."

Jennifer nodded slowly. "True," she said, "but that's what he has to do. He's a soldier; he fights. We're doctors; we heal."

"I know that. It's just… John… Colonel Sheppard… he's changed so much from that boy I thought of as my brother twenty-five years ago. I don't know that we can be friends anymore."

"Kathy, you can make friends with almost anyone you decide to. Your attitude attracts people, and in some cases it's even contagious."

"Maybe so, but Sheppard strikes me as the type who just might be immune."

Jennifer felt surprised by her friend's attitude. Kathy wasn't usually this pessimistic. This situation was really bothering her.

"Well, I can't promise that it will work," she said truthfully. "But Colonel Sheppard isn't a bad guy. Sure, I've had him shout at me once …"

"Shout at you?"

"When Dr. McKay and I used nanites to heal Dr. Weir behind his back, and against his orders."

"Oh. I can see why that would tick him off. He doesn't like surprises, does he?"

"Well, I guess if a person has enough nasty ones…" Jennifer shrugged awkwardly.

Kathy grimaced.

"Oh boy, I can't wait," she said dryly. "Remind me to have any sprinkler system we might have to be on standby in case the fireworks get out of control."

"Oh, it can't be anything that bad," said Jennifer.

"Don't be so sure about that," Kathy said, looking at Jennifer warningly. "Like I said, John would get into a fight on a dime. He was a very… explosive kid. He got it times five over from his very non-businesswoman mother." She paused and added, "Though, it looks like more influences came in."

"Is that necessarily a bad thing?" Jennifer asked.

"Bit of yes, bit of no, I guess," Kathy said. "I'm not sure. As I told you, I don't really know him anymore." She looked over at her clock and sighed. "But it looks like I'm going to be starting in less than six hours."

"And what are you going to be doing in the meantime?" Jennifer asked.

"Rehearsing?" Kathy suggested. "That is, unless you need me."

"Don't overstress this, Kathy," Jennifer told her. "Who knows? Colonel Sheppard may not have changed as much as you think."

"_Colonel_ Sheppard?" Kathy repeated pointedly. "Jennifer, he's supposed to be a doctor, a historian or something like that."

"Well, he isn't."

"I noticed. I guess I'll just have to prepare best as I can."

"With your rehearsing?"

"No." Kathy tapped a laptop on top of her desk. She grinned sheepishly as she explained, "I've been thinking of reading his file, what little I'm authorized to, anyway."

Jennifer looked surprised, and slightly disturbed, by what Kathy was suggesting.

"I thought you said reading someone's personnel file was an extreme invasion of their privacy when you can just get to know them anyway?"

"Yeah, I know this goes against the Code of Kathy, but this is an emergency."

"Is it?"

"He's not gonna tell me zip about what's happened in the last twenty-five years," Kathy said. "So I'll have to learn this way. I don't like it," she admitted, "but I really don't want to run up and ask him how many people he's killed, or some horrible question like that to launch him back into very bad points in his past."

"I guess that makes sense." Jennifer still wasn't comfortable with Kathy's choice of action. "I assume we won't be seeing you in the infirmary until later?"

"Not 'til after lunch, but if anyone needs me don't hesitate to call," Kathy said. "I'll be listening."

Jennifer nodded. "I have to go," she said. "Coffee tomorrow, then?"

"No, I have plans, sorry. I really did want to have a chance to talk, Jennifer, but it's just not going to work out right now. Next Sunday, maybe?"

"We'll see," Jennifer said. She turned to leave, pausing by the door and wishing Kathy luck with her re-acquaintance with Sheppard.

Kathy sat on her bed and pulled the laptop onto her lap. She lifted the top and pressed the power button. Hesitantly she accessed the database and went to the personnel files. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard uncertainly.

She set the laptop aside with a sigh and curled her fingers around a fist as she wondered. Her gaze drifted to an old teddy bear perched atop a small dresser. Kathy smiled lightly at the toy. It – in her mind, _he _– brought fonder memories of home to mind.

She stood up and walked over to the stuffed bear. He was a rather large one, in his current sitting position nearly a foot high. Her fingers fondled a round, deliciously soft ear. Master Frederick was his name. He had first been given to Kathy's great-grandmother when she was nine. The bear had become a cherished and gently treated treasure of the family since then. When her grandmother had her first child, Master Frederick had been passed onto her. When Kathy had been born, the bear had been given to her mother.

Most of the time, Master Frederick had sat in the shadows on a high shelf in her mother's closet. In times of need, such as Kathy's first injury (she had fallen down the stairs, getting a collection of large bruises, scraped palms, elbows, and knees, and a massive goose egg, quite an impressive accomplishment for an eight-year-old), and whenever someone in the family was particularly unhappy or hurt.

The tradition was to give the bear to a daughter when she had her first child, but for Kathy, Mrs. Sanders had broken that tradition. None of her family had known where she was going (except for maybe her brothers, but Kathy wasn't sure), but Kathy had hinted that there was a possibility it would be a one-way trip.

Mrs. Sanders had promptly gone upstairs. Kathy thought that she was angry with her, which wasn't new, since their personalities often clashed. She was thoroughly shocked when her mother had come back down five minutes later with a sturdy, travel-proof box, which contained the beloved Master Frederick. Kathy had protested, but her mother had been adamant.

In the end, Master Frederick had traveled across the stars to a strange galaxy named after a flying horse, and, coincidently, came to live in a flying city. Quite an adventure for an almost antique teddy bear.

Kathy was glad for her mother's stubbornness as her fingers compulsively ruffled and smoothed the bear's fake pelt, a calming habit she had formed over the years.

"What do you think, Master Frederick?" Kathy asked, not thinking in the slightest that it was peculiar for her to be talking to a stuffed bear. "Should I read the file, or should I just try to get to know Lt. Colonel John Sheppard all over again?"

Master Frederick said nothing, but then, he never did. Sometimes that made things easier, sometimes harder. In this case, both, for now Kathy had more time to think and worry.

She smoothed over the last bit of fur she had ruffled and looked over at the laptop, which was humming quietly. Kathy made a hum of her own, less quiet and more thoughtful.

"I think," she said after a while, "We should give our friend a chance."

She strode across the room and closed the laptop with a sharp click, and placed it back into a dresser drawer. With a murmured, "Thanks," to Master Frederick, she left her quarters and headed for the stairs. She walked along for a ways, eventually making her way to the top of the East Pier.

The wind was stronger than normal today, and Kathy shivered. She hated the cold, being an Arizona native, but she loved the smell of salt air. It was refreshing, even though she was quickly beginning to feel that her nose might fall off from the cold.

She walked out to the far edge of the Pier, ice-blue eyes watching the not so frozen waters surrounding Atlantis.

_Atlantis. _Gosh, sometimes even after all this time she found herself getting caught up in that brand-new wonder at the fantastic place she had come to call her second home. It was incredible how many fairy tales were true.

She reached the end of the Pier and sat down on the edge, legs dangling over the beginning of a distant plummet to certain death. She sat out there for a long time, thinking of absolutely nothing, just watching the waves and feeling the wind, part of her missing the cry of gulls she had heard so much during her visits to Washington with Seth.

After a moment, she realized that the sun was getting pretty high, and she should check the time. She glanced down at her watch. 9:12 AM. She would be meeting with John in about three hours.

With a grunt, she hauled herself to her feet and slowly headed back to her quarters. Now that her period of thinking was over, she was finally starting.

Judging from his rank, John must have run off and joined the Air Force shortly after graduating from high school or college. It was strange to think that while she was studying for a doctorate in epidemiology, he was off in training camp learning the one thousand and one different ways to kill people.

Heck, that wasn't just strange: it was flat-out scary!

…

_Whack!_ John didn't duck in time, and thus received a ringing blow to his head, courtesy one of the sticks Teyla Emmagan was using to kick his butt. John managed to counter her next blow, and tried an attack of his own, which, unsurprisingly, ended up with him on the floor blinking up at the woman who had successfully been beating the snot out of him for four years.

Good thing she was his _friend_…

Teyla stepped back, signaling the end of the fight. Instead of inquiring about his state of health, she made a sharp observation. "You are not focusing."

John accepted the hand she offered and allowed her to pull him to his feet, ignoring his whimpering ego. It needed a beating now and then.

"I wasn't aware that it made a difference," he joked. "You kick my butt whether I'm thinking of fighting or not."

Teyla smiled lightly, and her head tilted in an expression of curiosity. "What is it that is bothering you?" she asked.

John shrugged. "Oh, it's nothing," he said.

"If it were nothing, it would not be bothering you," Teyla pointed out.

John smiled wryly. After the aforementioned four years, it had become impossible to slip anything under Teyla's radar.

"I just bumped into someone unexpected, that's all," he said. He assumed a fighting stance, trying to steer the conversation somewhere else.

Teyla took up the stance as well. "That is interesting," she said.

John made the first move, and Teyla moved as gracefully as ever, batting away each of his attacks and responding with a powerful counterattack of her own.

John struggled to defend himself, trying to anticipate Teyla's next action while attempting to strike out as well.

After a swift exchange of blows, most on wood, some on flesh, Teyla and John parted, sizing each other up as they considered their next actions.

"Who was it?" Teyla asked.

Oh yeah, she wasn't going to let this subject go. Well, she was going to find out no matter what John did. Besides, what did it matter, and why did he even care? Of course, it could have something to do with the fact that even thinking about it made John's mind start to reel at the unforeseen blast from the past…

Teyla darted forward and reengaged the fight, and once again, John was scrambling to defend himself. How the woman kept doing it was beyond him, but John had long since determined that he was never going to best a warrior like Teyla at her own game.

Teyla knocked one of John's sticks out of his hand. Now he only had one stick to fend off her two. After a sharp blow to his empty arm, Teyla stepped back again, allowing him to retrieve his stick. He watched her warily as he picked up the wooden pole. Sometimes she'd whack him when he wasn't looking.

John realized that Teyla was looking at him expectantly, and he hadn't answered her question. "Oh," he said. "She's a doctor, one of Keller's people."

Teyla's eyebrows rose at the 'she.' "Has she been here long?" she asked.

"Yeah, ever since the beginning, actually," John replied. "Funny thing is; we never saw each other before this morning."

He straightened up with each stick firmly in hand and resumed the fighting position. Teyla nodded, and they resumed their skirmish, conversation spattering between blows.

"You have met her before?" Teyla asked, striking his left-hand stick with a force that shot all the way up his arm and kicking him in the stomach with much less force.

John stumbled back and blocked Teyla's next series of blows. "Yeah, we were childhood buddies," he said.

Teyla nodded, and John quickly moved onto the offensive while she was distracted. He got in a hit, but Teyla recovered very quickly and gave him three.

"And you have not seen each other since then?" she asked.

John blocked a swipe for his ribs and backed away from Teyla a short distance. "No, it's been over twenty years," he admitted.

Teyla looked surprised by that. "That is a very long time to be apart," she said.

"Yeah, well, life does that," John said in as nonchalant a tone he could manage. "Technically, she shouldn't even be here."

Teyla looked at him with a puzzled frown. "I do not understand what you mean."

"Well, the thing is," John started, making a half-hearted jab at one of Teyla's sticks and receiving a stinging blow to his right hand that made him drop his stick, "last we saw each other, she wanted to be a painter or a pianist."

"Pianist?" Teyla didn't recognize the term, not surprising since there weren't many musical people on Atlantis.

"A musician who plays this particular instrument, the piano," John explained. "It's a pretty popular instrument."

"I see," Teyla nodded slowly. "When you last saw this woman, she was going to be an artist or a player of music. Now she is a doctor of medicine."

"Funny thing is she was the sort of girl who'd punch someone without hesitation," John said. "Heck, she gave a guy a concussion once!"

Teyla looked alarmed. "And how old was she?" she asked.

"Seven or eight, I think."

Teyla winced. "She must have had a very strong personality," she said carefully.

"Oh, she did," John said with an emphatic nod.

"What is her name?" Teyla asked.

"Kathy, Kathy Sanders. _Dr._ Katherine Sanders now, but it seems that she still goes by Kathy."

Teyla's face lit up with recognition, and John realized that she knew who he was talking about. Why did that make him feel irritated?

"Yes, I believe I know the woman of whom you speak," she said. "I have not met her personally, but…" She stopped suddenly, then added in a quieter voice, "Aiden Ford spoke of her frequently."

"Ford?" John felt an oh-so-familiar pang of regret. Lieutenant Aiden Ford had been a great kid, a Marine who had been full of potential.

But the Wraith had taken all that away and turned him into a madman. And now he was probably dead somewhere, floating out in empty space.

John forced a smile at Teyla's concerned expression. He knew that she knew he blamed himself for everything, she probably even knew about the nightmares he'd had, but he had to put on the charade, had to be fine, or everything would fall apart.

"Ford, huh?" he emitted a weak chuckle. "So that's why he kept hanging around the infirmary. He and Kathy were in cahoots." He paused then and shook his head. "Nah, Kathy was probably just a friend. She wouldn't go for a military guy."

He gave Teyla an empty smile and added, "I guess that means I'm safe, eh?"

Teyla smiled back, and relaxed a little, but the concern was still in her eyes. Suddenly John realized that he was sore, very sore, and Teyla must have put bruises on top of the bruises that were already all over his body.

Teyla must have seen his expression, for she smiled again and returned her sticks to their place. "I think that we have had enough exercise for now," she said.

John smiled back and shrugged, putting his sticks away next to hers. They left the gym without further conversation, accompanied by the pungent aroma of a long workout.


	3. Lunch

Dr. Rodney McKay was stuffing his face with half the contents of the kitchen when John wandered back into the mess hall twenty minutes before noon.

He made a point of checking his watch as he strode up to the table where the scientist had seated himself and commented, "11:40, my, but you're up early this morning, Rodney."

"Can it, Sheppard," Rodney snapped ill temperedly. "I've already had to deal with that intellectually challenged Czech today, and I am in no mood for your childish games."

John smirked unrepentantly, ignoring Rodney's bad attitude. It was commonplace, and John had long since learned to take it in stride, much like he had learned to when Sergeant Gunn had been screaming all manner of obscenities in his young just-recruited ears a long, long time ago, in a galaxy now far, far away.

Rodney scowled up at the American, ready to start a sarcastic tirade at any given moment. Some people were intimidated by this surly man, but John Sheppard was not among their ranks. Sure, as far as sarcasm went, Rodney McKay could probably send a parade ground running, but other than that, the prickly Canadian wasn't that intimidating. After four years, he still couldn't shoot straight.

Teyla Emmagan came into the mess hall. Honestly, it was as if the woman could _sense_ an squabble brewing between the two men. _Well, maybe three_, John added to himself as Ronon made his entry seconds later.

The team soon gathered around the table to have an early lunch, except for John. He scanned the mess hall to see if Kathy had arrived yet, and, seeing that she hadn't, sat down to join his friends. Rodney had to stop his blathering since it was a little difficult to shovel in food and make sarcastic comments at the same time. However, he _was_ a man of many talents, and he gave it his best effort.

They soon slipped into their relaxed banter, which naturally included scathing comments from Rodney. Teyla said nothing about their conversation in the gym, just watched John with her all-seeing eyes to see whether or not he'd tell the other half of his team about his early morning encounter.

Rodney made the decision without even realizing it, however. He stared across at the empty table space before John and inquired, "Aren't you going to eat anything?"

_Figures the one thing he'd ask about is my feeding habits,_ John thought dryly.

"No, Rodney, I'm fasting," he replied sarcastically.

Rodney's eyes narrowed into a glare. John decided to backpedal, as he wasn't really in the mood to get into an argument with Rodney just yet.

"I'm meeting up with an old friend," John said with a shrug of indifference.

Rodney stuffed a chunk of cantaloupe into his mouth and spoke around it. "Oo iv it?"

"Oh, just one of the doctors," John told him.

"Figures you'd know one of those numbskulls who calls himself a scientist," Rodney muttered with a roll of his eyes.

John snorted. "No, Rodney, she doesn't work with you, you wouldn't be able to handle that. She's one of Keller's people."

Rodney, for all his supposed brilliance, zeroed in on the single syllable word. "She?"

Now Ronon was looking at him curiously, too, while Teyla seemed quietly amused. John shifted slightly in his seat. He felt strangely awkward about the interest, and that was unusual.

"Yeah, her name's Sanders," John said as he shrugged again. "Not much to look at, if that's what you're wondering, Rodney. Black hair, used to be a redhead, still is mentally, comes from Arizona."

"Arizona?" Rodney's eyebrows went up. "She must have a great tan."

John chuckled, although he kind of felt like throttling Rodney at the moment. Sure, Kathy was a pretty woman, but he didn't feel about her that way. He didn't _want_ to.

"Not anymore," he said. "She's been here since day one; most of the tan's gone now." Actually, quite a bit of the tan was still there, but Rodney didn't need to know that.

Rodney looked crestfallen. "Too bad." He had seemed almost excited, though why anyone would be excited about Kathy was beyond John's understanding.

Rodney brutally stabbed another piece of cantaloupe and brought it up to his mouth, asking a question before popping it in. "So you're meeting her for lunch?" He raised his eyebrows suggestively.

John rolled his eyes in exasperation. For Pete's sake, it was lunch, not a lunch _date. _"We're just going to talk, Rodney," he said.

"Talk." Rodney's flat tone made his belief in that statement transparent.

John glared at him. "I'm not dating her, Rodney," he snapped. "We're just catching up. It's been a long time since we last saw each other."

"Yeah, and everyone knows how reunions like that go," Rodney said.

At that moment John spotted Kathy walking into the mess hall. She stood by the door, looking around.

John stood up, shaking his head at the scientist. "Rodney, you're pathetic. Just because I'm meeting someone for lunch doesn't mean we're seeing each other. Quit trying to play matchmaker, it really doesn't suit you."

With that, John walked away, grinning as Rodney sputtered indignantly at being called a yenta.

**…...**

Kathy smiled when she spotted John coming her way and offered a wave, trying to control the nervous feeling joggling her insides. John gave her a responding smile that didn't seem as open as smiles should be.

"Hey," she greeted him as he came up.

"Hey," John repeated. "Ready for lunch?"

_Figures the first question he asks is about food…_ "Sure." She added a teasing tone to her voice as she asked, "So is this your first lunch or second?"

John chuckled. "First," he replied.

They started heading to the food tables and picked up their trays, conversing as they picked out their lunch. "I thought a guy as busy as you would eat about as much as a hobbit," Kathy said with a laugh lurking beneath her words. "Or maybe a bear."

John raised an eyebrow. "I thought you hated fantasy," he said.

"You can blame my brother for that," Kathy replied. "He adores Lord of the Rings. What about you? Did you ever get to reading the books?"

"Nah," John shrugged. "Too busy with Greek mythology." He grimaced. "Teachers. Love 'em."

"Don't let my brother hear that," Kathy laughed. "He's a teacher."

"Bet he's always complaining about the lousy salary, huh?" John said, snagging a brownie.

"Nope," Kathy said proudly. "He's always talking about his students. Graduated, current, etcetera. Students, students, students. He loves 'em. Funny thing is, at the start of the year he's the most hated teacher on the campus, quite possibly on the planet." Seeing John's expression, she laughed again. "Yep, he's one of _those_ teachers. His graduated students love him, though. They've all gone on to universities and gotten scholarships, every single one."

"Wow." John was impressed. "And he thinks he's the one who did it?"

"Oh, he doesn't say a word. His students _lavish_ praise on him. It really embarrasses him, so sometimes I'll tell the students to use the longest, most flowery words they can come up with."

John snorted. "Why am I not surprised."

Kathy looked at him innocently. "I have no idea what you mean by that."

They left the tables and headed for a spot of their own, passing the table the rest of AR-1 was sitting at on the way. The scientist amongst the group was watching the two of them suspiciously, and Kathy had to suppress a laugh as they went on by. The expression on the guy's face was priceless.

They found themselves a table by a window and sat down, Kathy on one side, John on the other. Wasn't that the way they had used to do it? She couldn't quite remember

John immediately set his focus on his food, which Kathy wasn't at all surprised by. She arranged her silverware precisely and casually asked, "So, what made you go into the military?"

John stiffened ever so slightly. He leaned back in his chair with an air of relaxation. "Oh, this and that," he said vaguely.

"Your dad?"

There it was again, that stiffening, that fake smile he was using as a shield. "Some of it, yeah." He shifted in his seat, forcing himself into a flippant attitude. "So what about you? What made you become a doctor?"

"A long train of confusing, very sad, and plain-out stupid actions, mostly done by me," Kathy said bluntly. "After your family left, things changed. I wasn't too happy you were gone, you _were_ my best friend, and the other girls were all just so… _fluffy_."

John raised his eyebrows. "Sophelia?"

Kathy smiled at John's use of the old nickname they'd come up with for Sophie Celia Musterforth, a girl around Kathy's age who would try to follow them around like a shadow.

Kathy nodded. "Yeah, Sophelia. She attached herself to me like a limpet. All parties and pink and kittens and… _Blech_."

John nodded sympathetically. "Did you ever get rid of her?"

"Alas, no. I've learned to deal with her," Kathy said. "She's tolerable, so long as you don't actually try to _listen_ to what she's saying."

John chuckled at that. "Sounds a bit like Rodney."

"She is a real sweetheart," Kathy said, good-naturedly trying to defend the other woman. "Just a bit… vague."

John snickered. "Yep. Vague."

Kathy shook her head, chuckling. "Okay, back on subject; a few years after you left my parents decided they were going to adopt. They looked around and found two boys, both a few years younger than me, and had them come into the house to stay for a couple of weeks."

Kathy hesitated as she went back to the memories. Those years of her life had been painful, and she was in no hurry to talk about them, especially to a man she barely even knew anymore, childhood friend or not.

"Anyway, we got along well enough, so they adopted them," she said, skipping over _a lot_ of the details. "The older one, two years younger than me, is Alex-well, Alexander, actually, I'm the only one in the world who can call him Alex and live. He's the teacher I mentioned before, and the Lord of the Rings geek.

"The younger one, five years younger than me, is Jay. He's a social worker, works with kids. He came from horribly abusive parents, and he knows how scary it is to be in the foster system. The kids in the system, all the ones that know him, just love him."

"That's nice," John said, tone distant. Kathy got the impression he wasn't really listening, but she couldn't be sure.

"And you already know my mom Annushka and my dad Braden," she said.

"Yep," John said. He smiled wryly as he added, "It would be pretty difficult to forget a character like your mom."

Kathy chuckled. "Yeah, she's pretty much just the same, but not quite as scary anymore," she said. "Still pretty strict, but I think she's mellowed over the years."

"Mellowed? Your _mother_?" John raised his eyebrows doubtfully.

"I think she got hit with the realization that I'd grown up and she hadn't helped with any of it," Kathy said thoughtfully. "It didn't hit her as hard as it did Dad, though: he actually started crying."

John looked surprised by that comment, and maybe a little envious, but he said nothing. After all, what could he say?

"So," Kathy turned her gaze on him sharply, and John found himself feeling slightly unnerved by her pale blue eyes, "that's my family. What about you? Did ya get any additions to yours?"

"Nah," John said. "Dad's still in business, Dave's gonna take over the company eventually, I guess…"

"Dave?" Kathy's brow furrowed. "But wouldn't you inherit the company? You're the older one."

John shrugged. "Dave's always liked business more than me," he said. "It's more his arena."

Kathy's eyes narrowed slightly, and he wondered if she had caught the hidden thought underneath those words: _Because I don't like the arena where your sole purpose is to take advantage of people._

"Ah well, you're out here in Pegasus now," Kathy said. "You may or may not have gotten the better deal, but you've certainly got the more exciting one!"

John smiled. Kathy, always trying to lighten the mood. He was glad she'd been here all these years, she must have been great on the morale of the people who knew her.

"Definitely," he said, taking a bite of his sandwich.

Kathy smiled. She seemed to do that a lot. John could tell by the way her eyes wrinkled whenever she did.

Suddenly, almost inconveniently, John realized why other men would find Kathy attractive. She didn't have her carrot-colored locks anymore, since she'd died them black. Her whole face crinkled up when she laughed or smiled, pleasantly dimpling in just the right spot. Her eyes, though cold in color, held a cheerful sparkle anyone would find endearing.

Yes, John had realized, Katherine Sanders was a very lovely lady. But despite that, he didn't feel anything for her. Maybe he couldn't. She was just the girl who lived across the street. His little sister from another family.

And he was just fine with that.

Kathy was chewing a bite of her own sandwich, a classic PB and J. "So, met anyone?" she asked suddenly, a gleam in her eye. "Anyone special?"

John's throat tightened, memories he hadn't wanted to dredge up swamping him. Laughter, smiles, love… draining away into shouts, frowns, and distance. He still remembered her face, her beautiful face, no matter how hard he tried to get it out of his mind. Nancy Sheppard, his wife.

His _ex_-wife.

"Eh, not really," John said, trying the shake the firmly rooted memories from his mind. "Didn't work out."

A sad look came into Kathy's face, and he knew that she wasn't thinking about girlfriends. "You divorced."

"It wasn't working," John tried to justify. "For either of us."

"Of course it wasn't," Kathy said softly, looking away. "Of course it wasn't."

John winced. He'd wanted this meeting to go well. He'd never thought that the subject of his former wife would come up.

"So, what about you?" he asked, trying to turn the attention away from himself. "You met anyone?"

"Oh," Kathy smiled, somewhat nervously John thought. "I don't date."

John's eyebrows arched at that statement. "So, what, you're gonna be an old maid?"

"I don't have too many problems with it, since one of my brothers is already hitched," Kathy said. She chuckled, and said in the teasing tone that was the universal trademark of all sisters, "They're both pretty handsome boys, so I didn't have to wait too long. It's only a matter of time for the other."

John laughed. And then realized she hadn't answered his question.

Kathy smiled back, and shifted the subject along, "So, what made you go into the Air Force?" she asked, not for the first time.

"Well, what guy can resist a job that offers flying, big guns, and a high likelihood of explosions?" John joked.

Kathy snorted. "Good grief, John, you're ridiculous."

"Oh? And what were _your_ reasons for going into a medical career?" John challenged.

Kathy didn't miss a beat. "Alex has a heart condition ever since he was a kid," she said. "There's no known cure, but there is a some certainty that it was caused by an exposure to an unknown disease. Alex told me about it when I was fifteen, and that was when I knew what I was going to be."

John blinked. "Wow," he said. "That's… pretty noble."

Kathy shrugged, something ashamed lurking behind her eyes. "It was the least I could do. Alex has done a lot for me. You could say he saved my life."

"How did your parents react?"

"Dad was surprised, but overjoyed," Kathy smiled. "He'd been pretty worried about what I was going to do with my life, considering the absolute mess I was making of it, so to hear that I had a purpose was a pretty big relief to him. Mom was… less enthusiastic, and produced at least half a trillion reasons why going into the arts could give me a better and easier life than a medical career would."

Kathy shuddered, thinking of the discussions regarding blood, surgery, autopsy, rotting flesh, and other nasty subjects about medical things. "She nearly convinced me a few times, but Dad actually put his foot down after a while-without me even talking to him-and said that enough was enough. So I went to college and became a doctor."

She pulled a disgusted face. "During my job, I have seen the interior of the human body on both living and dead individuals, and worked in I think three different disease epidemics. That's what my doctorate is in, you know," she added. "Epidemiology, study of diseases."

John cocked an eyebrow. "Charming."

"My mother would avoid me when I visited home during college," Kathy laughed. "I would talk about what I'd learned, and it turned out that her stomach couldn't quite handle hearing the detailed descriptions of the varying effects of some of the more exotic diseases our world has known."

John pulled a face, similar to the one she had before. "That I can understand," he said.

Kathy chuckled, "You were the soldier guy who left the room once the autopsy started, weren't you?"

"Hey, there is no shame in not wanting to see the insides of a dead body," John protested. _I've seen enough of them from the outside._

"Hey, hey, calm down, John, I was just kidding," Kathy said in placating tones. "Twisted doctor humor, sorry, you have to remember we practically lived in the infirmary until the Sunday-off thing became law."

A sad look crossed her face, and John knew what it meant. She had known Carson too.

"You know, that reminds me…" Kathy smiled in a funny way. "I remember how once, back home a few years before Atlantis popped me on the head, I had done a little bit of research on churches…"

"Churches?" John was puzzled. "How do dead bodies remind you of church?"

"Oh, you know, heaven," Kathy explained.

"Huh. What were you researching?"

"Noise levels," Kathy grinned. "How loud it usually is in churches of different denominations. You know, in some places, it's really crazy. They don't just sing, they dance, jump around, shout… pretty intense, from what I hear.

"Whereas in a Catholic church, if your voice is _one octave higher_, you get about three hundred old people _glaring_ at you," Kathy laughed.

John snorted loudly, a grin spreading across his face, eyes twinkling in a merry and almost open way. "Oh, don't go telling _me_ that," he said.

Kathy tried not to, but she started to giggle. "Remember the incident with the sneeze?" she asked.

"How could I forget?" John groaned.

Kathy laughed harder, speaking between gasps. "There we were… Sunday morning Mass."

"In different rows of pews," John reminded her.

"Mm-hm! And you needed to sneeze."

John started chuckling. "I remember how mortified I was when I felt it coming, like a tickle way down the back of my nose, and thinking _Dear Lord, if You make me sneeze in church, I'll die!_"

"I know!" Kathy exclaimed. "I remember you looking across the aisle at me, and mouthing desperately, _I have to sneeze, I have to sneeze_!"

"And we were in the middle of Mass!"

"_You_ were trying not to sneeze, and _I_ was trying not to laugh," Kathy went on. "You were holding your nose, and then when I looked over again, you were stuffing something into your mouth…?"

"My mom's handkerchief," John nodded, remembering.

Kathy laughed loudly. "What on earth did you do that for?" she asked.

John shrugged. "I don't even know anymore, I can't remember," he laughed.

"And then, just as the deacon lifted the Body of Christ into the air, there was this tremendous AAAAATCHOOOO!"

John burst out laughing at Kathy's stellar imitation of his sneeze years and years ago. Kathy was speechless for a while to, pounding the table as she laughed hysterically.

"And," she wheezed, "because it was the church, your sneeze echoed and echoed…"

"And _everyone_ in the church turned and stared at me," John chuckled, shaking his head. "I thought for sure I was going to die, or God was going to strike me down with a lightning bolt for daring to sneeze in His church."

Kathy chuckled. "Well, they were staring at me, too," she corrected him. "Even then, it was well known that we were into all kinds of shenanigans."

"Of course, it didn't help when you pointed the deacon towards me," John grumbled.

"Well, you were the one who sneezed," Kathy grinned. "Besides, you pointed back."

"You started it!" John protested.

Kathy tilted her head up and looked at him down her nose in a most snooty way. "It's not polite to point at ladies," she said.

John laughed. "Many things you are, Kathy, but a _lady_ is not one of them."

"You wound me, geek boy."

John's eyes widened for a moment, then he glared at her. "If you dare call me that in front of anyone, I will kill you."

Kathy just laughed. "Now that is something I would like to see you try," she chuckled. "Last I remembered, I was the one who hung you from that tree-" She stopped and looked over at the table where John's team was sitting. "_Why_ does Dr. McKay keep staring at us? He's been doing it all through lunch."

"Maybe he has an avid interest in the effects of hysteria," John suggested.

Kathy reacted without thinking, punching her fist down on John's hand, which was resting on the table.

"Ow!" John yelped, snatching back the hand and cradling it protectively against his chest, looking over at Kathy with a wounded expression.

"Sorry," Kathy apologized, but her eyes held a twinkle. She glanced back over at Rodney was again. "But seriously, what _is_ his deal?" Her eyes widened. "Do you think he thinks we're a couple?"

John snorted into his water. "I think I made it pretty clear to Rodney that there's nothing going on with us."

"And the likelihood that he actually listened to what you were saying…?"

"Pretty low," John admitted.

Kathy glanced over at Rodney, and a grin spread far across her face, filled with mischief.

"Oh no, I've seen that look before," John said. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking we could tug on his chain. Nothing _too_ over the top, but enough to, oh, I don't know… make his jaw drop, maybe."

John's eyebrow arched. "And that would be?"

Kathy rose, grinning mischievously, and picked up her empty lunch tray. John followed suit, minus the grin.

"You take both trays," Kathy instructed.

John wasn't quite sure where Kathy was going with this, but he followed her instructions.

"Come out from the table."

John went into the main walkway, and looked over in surprise when Kathy sauntered up and slid her arm into his.

"Now we walk past their table as we go to put away our trays," Kathy said.

John grinned. They went to drop off their trays, then headed back towards his team's table. Walking casually, Kathy leaning on his arm and giggling at something, probably the hilarity of her own idea, he passed the table at which Rodney, Teyla, and Ronon sat.

Their mission had been accomplished, for Rodney's jaw had indeed dropped, though he quickly snapped it shut as they drew near.

John nodded calmly at his teammate. "Rodney."

Rodney gave a less than regal nod in return. "Sh-Sheppard."

Kathy smiled at the Canadian, her lashes half-lowered. "You must be Rodney," she said, slowing her voice purposefully. "John has told me so much about you."

John tried not to burst out laughing. Rodney's expression was priceless, even more so when Kathy added, "I hear you're quite brilliant."

"Yes, well, you heard correctly," Rodney said, preening.

Kathy looked over at John, somehow maintaining her cool expression. "So it would seem," she said.

John smiled crookedly, shaking slightly as he tried not to laugh.

"So, uh, you and Sheppard…" Rodney said.

"Oh, yes…" Kathy looked up at John, smile tugging at her lips. "John and I…" She suddenly burst out laughing, "Are totally pulling your leg!"

Kathy's laughter was entirely infectious. Once she started, John couldn't help but join in, and Ronon's roars added to the noise. Teyla was shaking, and Rodney sputtered indignantly as he realized that he'd been had.

"I'm Kathy," Kathy introduced herself as she tried to calm herself. "Dr. Katherine Sanders if you want to be stuffy. But I prefer Kathy." She smiled. "Stuffy's never been my thing."

"I am Teyla Emmagan," Teyla introduced herself, standing up and offering her hand. Kathy took it and shook it strongly.

"You've met Rodney," John said. "And Teyla, now. That's Ronon back there."

Ronon nodded at Kathy, and took her proffered hand.

"Well, it seems everybody knows everybody 'round here now," Kathy said. She glanced down at her watch. "Uh-oh! I lost track of time, I need to get back home-to the infirmary, that is." She glanced over at John and chuckled. "Though, some could argue that you spend more time there than I do."

John kept his face studiously blank as he replied, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Kathy laughed, shaking her head as she walked away. John and his team watched her go for a moment before all looking at each other.

"So that's your friend," Rodney said.

"Yeah," John said. "She's kinda different from when we last saw each other… and kinda not." He shrugged.

"That is how change often is," Teyla said, nodding wisely.

"Yeah, I guess so," John said.

"She's different than other people from Earth," Ronon rumbled from his place. "Something in her face."

"Yes, I had seen that as well," Teyla agreed. "Perhaps she carries the gene of the Ancestors as John does."

"Maybe," John nodded. "Maybe."

**…...**

"Dr. Sanders, you're needed in the infirmary immediately." Kathy furrowed her brow at the statement coming from her headset, and picked up her pace as she tapped the mic and replied, "I'm on my way. Be there in five minutes."

She called for Dr. Neal to hold the door as she ran up to the transport.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** So sorry for the HUGE delay! Stuff was happening in life, and then an ice storm came to Washington of all places, we lost power for a day, and we still don't have our Internet back up... so, yeah. Delays. My sincerest apologies.


	4. Paranoia Poison

An hour later, the voice of Colonel Samantha Carter coming through John's radio caught him by surprise. "Colonel Sheppard, you need you in the infirmary _now_."

John turned on his mic and replied, "On my way." He went down a hall, followed by his curious team. "What's the problem, Colonel?"

"There's something wrong with Major Lorne and his team," Colonel Carter whispered. "They're in the infirmary, holding the doctors hostage. It's like watching a group of madmen."

"That doesn't sound like Lorne," John said, looking back at his team with a worried expression. Their grim countenances told John that they had heard the conversation as well. "You're whispering, Colonel. Are you in there too, ma'am?"

"Yes. Their attention's elsewhere at the moment, but that won't last."

"We're on our way, Colonel."

"Hurry, Colonel. Things look like they're going to get very ugly."

John ran into the transport, half a step behind Ronon's long legs. "Hold the fort for a few more minutes, ma'am, we'll be right there."

**...**

Kathy was trying to stay calm.

It was not an easy thing to do, what with four men waving guns around, four men who _worked with her_. If possible, the captors seemed more afraid than their captives.

"Major, we are not your enemies," Kathy's new boss, Colonel Carter, was trying to talk to the men. Kathy had noticed her whispering into her radio a moment ago, and hoped that reinforcements weren't far off. Situations like this always ended badly if allowed to drag on.

Major Lorne whirled around just then, staring at his captives with a panicked expression. As his wild-eyed gaze met hers, Kathy saw something small and frightened, and altogether out of place in the face of a military man.

That was when Kathy started to look closer. Lorne was shaking, only slight tremors, but still shaking. He was sweating, and his eyes kept darting about like living things. Of course, she hadn't thought anything of it before, but now she was beginning to wonder…

When Major Lorne and his team had come through, they had dropped unconscious. They'd been out cold when Kathy had dashed into the infirmary. About ten minutes ago they had leaped up and overpowered the military folk who'd been visiting and taken their sidearms, then proceeded to set this whole thing up like a scenario from a classic bank robbery. Except they weren't stealing anything.

Kathy had met Major Lorne a few times before, and he'd seemed nice enough, a bit stand-offish, but then most military types were toward civilians. She had figured that if they got to know each other, he'd turn out to be a pretty cool guy, but right now she didn't have much knowledge of the man to work with.

She couldn't remember what his first name was. Something with an I or an E. Ewan? Igor? No, it couldn't be Igor, his parents would have to be psychos to name him _that_. Ingram? Edgar? Isaac? Isaiah? Ezekiel? Ethan?

_Ethan… hmm. Not quite right, but still…_

"Evan! That's it!" she exclaimed, snapping her fingers. Instantly she was blinking at the barrel of a gun pointed in her face, and she swallowed. "I, ah, was just trying to remember your name," she said.

"Shut up!" Major Lorne snapped, finger slipping onto the trigger.

"O-okay, Major, okay," Kathy said placatingly, unable to keep her voice from shaking. "I'm-I'm sorry."

"I said shut up!"

Kathy nodded, watching the gun as her heart throbbed, wondering if he was going to pull the trigger. Lucky for her, Colonel Carter yelled out "Major, leave her alone!" and the man whipped around and switched his focus onto her.

"Whoa, whoa, Major, what's going on?" John stepped into the doorway. "Put the gun down."

Major Lorne pointed his gun at John. "Stay back!" he shouted, sweat-slick face quivering. "I-I'll shoot you!"

John lifted his own sidearm and calmly replied, "Yeah, well, two can play at that game, Major. Put the gun down."

The Major hesitated, eyes darting about frantically as his breath heaved.

"Put the gun down, Lorne," John ordered.

"No!" Lorne exclaimed. "Nonono, _you_ put the gun down."

"I don't think so, Major."

Lorne pointed his gun at Colonel Carter. "I'll kill her," he said.

"No, you won't," Kathy broke in. "You'll put the gun down, Evan."

Major Lorne blinked, pointed the gun at her. "Why should I listen to you?" he demanded.

"Because, Evan, you're dying," Kathy told him. "There's something wrong with your blood, there's poison in it. That poison is killing you right now. I'd say… ten seconds before you drop. I can save you, and your men, but I will not until all of you put your guns down."

"Ten," John started the countdown from the doorway.

"You're lying," Lorne rasped, panic evident on his sweaty face.

"Nine."

"No, I'm not, Evan," Kathy said. "I'm a doctor, I know these things."

"Eight."

"Put the gun down, Evan, I can help you."

"Seven."

"Shut up!" Major Lorne shouted at John, pointing his gun at him.

"Six," Kathy said. Lorne whirled back to her, and John resumed the count.

"Five."

Major Lorne's eyes became more and more wild as he looked from Kathy to John, trembling in his place as his head spun first in one direction, then another. Kathy felt guilty for terrifying him so.

"Four."

"Your men will die, too, Evan, do you want that?" Kathy asked. Lorne's men exchanged fearful looks.

"Three."

Lorne swallowed, looked down at the gun in his shaking hand. "Evan, we don't want you or your men to die," Kathy said fervently.

"Two."

"All right!" Lorne screamed, he and his men flinging their guns away. "Please don't let me die," Lorne pleaded. "_Please!_"

"No one's going to die, Major," John said, watching Lorne's team with his firearm raised as the hostages confiscated their captors' weapons.

Lorne blinked. "You… you lied?"

Kathy frowned. "No," she said. "I was exaggerating. You've been exposed to some kind of chemical or drug that's making you behave this way, but I may be right about the collapse. Your body is not designed to operate this way." She looked over at Jennifer. "We should put them into isolation, for safety's safe."

Jennifer nodded, and some of the very men Lorne's team had overpowered just a short while ago escorted Lorne's team out of the room. "The test results will be coming in soon, so it shouldn't be long before we know what just happened here."

"See to it, Doctor," John said. "I have had more than enough of possessed coworkers."

Colonel Carter nodded in agreement. "That I can understand," she said.

Kathy looked over at the door through which Lorne's bewildered and frightened team had just been led. "I'm very glad that worked," she said. "A bunch of numbers would've made terrible last words." Of course, she was just saying that to fool herself as well as everyone else that what she had just seen wasn't as jarring for her as it was. She shook her head. "Dang. Surviving hostage situations was _not_ something I wanted to add to my résumé."

Jennifer nodded sympathetically. "I'm starting to get used to it by now," she said.

"Don't downsize yourself, Doctor," Colonel Carter slipped into their conversation as John went around in the background making sure everyone was okay. "Both of you. But you in particular, Doctor…?"

"Sanders, Colonel," Kathy introduced herself. "Dr. Katherine Sanders." She didn't have the strength to smile. "I thought you were supposed to know everybody."

"Well, I've only been in charge here for a few weeks, Dr. Sanders," Colonel Carter replied. "I'm still getting a feel for this place." She looked around. "It certainly isn't the SGC."

"Yeah, I guess there's a bit of a difference between an underground base and a floating city," Kathy said. She turned to leave. "Well, I'm gonna go. Dr. Matthews got some muscles torn in his shoulder, so I'm going to see how he's doing with that."

Colonel Carter and Jennifer both nodded, and Kathy walked away. John passed her as he went to join up with the two, and he paused a moment to ask if she was alright.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Kathy replied. "Can't say the same for Dr. Matthews, though."

"I don't think you'll have to worry. He's already attracted a swarm of doctors." John started to go, but then he paused and said, "By the way, that was a nice trick back there, distracting Major Lorne. It was good instincts."

Kathy nodded, though she really didn't want to hear anything about it anymore. "Thanks."

John nodded and walked over to Colonel Carter and Jennifer. Jennifer noticed the colonel heading towards them and turned to look at him. Coming up to them he said, "Now, what the heck just happened?"

"Major Lorne and his team returned from a mission offworld an hour ago, about fifty minutes overdue," Colonel Carter explained. "They collapsed the moment they stepped through the 'Gate, and were rushed up to the infirmary. A few minutes ago they woke up, and you know the rest."

"I thought the planet they were heading to was friendly," Colonel Sheppard said, and Jennifer could see an _oh boy, here we go again_ look on his face.

"That's just it: it is," Colonel Carter replied. "Lorne's team didn't dial back in from the planet they had gone to, they came in from another world."

"So they were moved." Colonel Sheppard frowned. "That's not good."

"We should be able to get a clearer idea of what happened once the test results come in, and whenever Lorne and his men get back to normal," Jennifer put in. "Until then, we can only guess."

"I'll have Rodney look up whatever data we've got on the planet they dialed in from," Colonel Sheppard said. "We'll see if we find anything."

He turned and walked back out of the room, stepping around scattered objects cast throughout the room. Jennifer looked at Colonel Carter. "Now you know why I don't like being the chief medical," she said.

Carter smiled back kindly. "You'll get used to it."

"Says the woman who's a Colonel."

"And lived and breathed military her whole life." Colonel Carter shrugged. "All right, I admit that I'm not the best person to go to for sympathy."

She watched as people began to slowly relax, quietly returning to their work or helping clean up. Looking back over at Jennifer, she asked, "Dr. Sanders. Do you know her well?"

"She's a good friend of mine," Jennifer replied. "Why do you ask?"

"She handled the situation very nicely. Tell her to come up to my office later, I'd like to talk to her."

"I'll let her know," Jennifer promised.

Colonel Carter nodded and went out the same way Colonel Sheppard had. Jennifer turned and joined the people clearing up the mess Major Lorne and his men had created. Quietly, still baffled by the authority her timid voice suddenly had, Jennifer instructed the various helpers with what to do even as her own hands were full. After everything was placed back into order, she was able to snag Kathy just before she left the infirmary.

"Looks good, doesn't it?" Kathy asked, nodding to the tidied room. "Wouldn't think it was a mess just a few minutes ago. Though," she gestured to her grimy clothes, "I think we need to start dusting behind the cabinets."

"Well then, I'll let you go change," Jennifer said. "But before you leave, Colonel Carter wanted me to tell you to stop by her office later, she wants to talk to you."

"Uh-oh, sounds like I'm in trouble," Kathy joked, a slight smile drifting across her face. "Thanks for the memo. I'll swing in right after I change, and try to make my hair look more like hair instead of a bush."

"That's your hair?" Jennifer asked. "I thought it was a hat."

Kathy rolled her eyes, and Jennifer giggled. There were not many people she could say stuff like that to, and it was refreshing that she could do it with Kathy.

"You're hilarious, Jen," Kathy said, and Jennifer couldn't detect a hint of sarcasm in her voice. Yet another reason she loved her friend. Kathy turned to leave the infirmary a second time, but Jennifer found herself catching the woman by the arm again. "Kathy?"

Kathy looked over at her, an eyebrow quirked in question. "Yeah?"

"Are you okay?" Jennifer asked. "After what just happened…? I mean, I know it must have made you think of… you know."

Kathy's expression was grave. "I think I'll be okay," she replied slowly. "But I won't deny, that was one of the scariest things that has ever happened to me. I honestly thought he was going to kill me, Jennifer. Going from that to helping John confuse him enough to drop his gun… I dunno. I think the stress levels just went way up for me." Kathy gave an awkward shrug, accompanied by a nervous smile. "You'd think that after three years I'd be used to this. But apparently not."

"You gonna be alright?" Jennifer asked softly.

Kathy paused, then nodded. "I think so," she answered. "This wasn't the first time I've been held at gunpoint… but it is the first time that the gun belonged to somebody I work with. I think that's the part that's really freaking me out." She shuddered. "If all it takes is some chemicals to turn one of your own on you, then…" She stopped, shaking her head. "Okay, I really don't need to go there."

She turned her gaze back onto Jennifer, eyes clear. "Right. So, I'll go change, and then stop into Colonel Carter's office. See you later, Jen." She turned to go, and looked over her shoulder to smile at Jennifer, but Jennifer could see the smile was weak.

Jennifer smiled back, hoping that hers was a little more strong. "Thanks. And you, too."

Kathy nodded and she went out the door. Jennifer turned back to look at the now-spotless infirmary, bearing no signs of the fiasco only a few minutes ago.

_Right,_ she told herself, _gotta go check on Lorne's team._

She turned and headed for the isolation area.


	5. Delicate Subject

Kathy poked her head into Colonel Carter's office and rapped the glass panel of the door with her knuckle. Colonel Carter waved her in, and the man she was talking to-John-turned to see who had arrived.

He nodded, smiling in greeting. "Hey, Kathy." He hesitated, as though he wasn't sure if he should call her that.

"Hi," Kathy replied, swinging her hands behind her back and clasping them together. "Dr. Keller told me you wanted to see me, Colonel Carter?"

"Yes, thank you for coming, Dr. Sanders," Colonel Carter said, her voice pleasant and friendly.

Kathy snorted in amusement. "Yeah, like I had a choice," she said. "You're the boss around here."

Colonel Carter chuckled briefly, and gestured to one of the chairs in her office. "Please, take a seat."

"Thanks," Kathy said, sinking down into the chair. "After what happened in the infirmary, I wouldn't mind taking a moment."

"That's what you're here for, actually," Colonel Carter told her. "I noticed how you conducted yourself back there, Doctor. It was quite impressive."

"Oh, please," Kathy waved a hand dismissively. "I was scared out of my mind."

"But obviously not completely out of it," Colonel Carter replied. "If you hadn't helped Colonel Sheppard back there, things could have gotten ugly."

Kathy didn't move. She knew that whatever this conversation was leading up to was serious, and she wasn't in any hurry to sluff it off.

"This isn't the first time you've been in a tight situation, Dr. Sanders," Colonel Carter said. "A glance at your file can say that."

Kathy's throat went dry, and a knot of panic clenched in her stomach. "I understood that part of my record would be kept strictly confidential," she said, her voice quick and sharp. "I made it very clear that those were my wishes."

"There's no need to worry, Dr. Sanders," Colonel Carter reassured her. "Only a handful of people here have clearance to view your files, myself and Colonel Sheppard included."

Kathy looked at up John, panic on her face. _John-?_ But a look at his face showed that no, he had not read her file. But that didn't mean he wouldn't now, if the panic on her face was showing half the panic she was feeling. _Shoot!_

"Have you ever considered going offworld, Dr. Sanders?" Colonel Carter asked.

"No," Kathy replied emphatically. "No, I have not considered, and no, I don't want to."

"Why not?" John asked, looking at her as if she was insane.

Kathy looked up at him, and hesitated, feeling exposed. "I… I just… don't," she said, cringing as she heard her stammer. "Please, Colonel, just leave it at that."

Colonel Carter looked disappointed. "Very well, Dr. Sanders," she said. "I understand your hesitation. But if you ever decide to change your mind, please come see me."

"That won't happen," Kathy said firmly. _And also, you don't understand._

A strange look appeared in Colonel Carter's eyes, but she just signaled for Kathy to leave the room. "You may go, Dr. Sanders."

"Thank you, Colonel," Kathy replied, trying to keep her voice civil. It wasn't that she didn't like Colonel Carter, on the contrary, she seemed like someone who was going to be great to work under, but the topic they had just spoken of had brought back many unwanted memories.

She rose quickly from her chair and left the Colonel's office, so tense she couldn't even nod back at Chuck when he called out a cheery hello from his station in the control room.

From there she went back to the infirmary as she was supposed to, but she found it hard to stay focused on anything. Jennifer noticed it of course, she was Jennifer, and she asked if Kathy was okay. Kathy gave a distracted reply that made Jennifer turn around from what she was doing and fix her full attention on the woman.

"Spill," she said, and though it was a command, it was spoken gently.

Kathy sighed, leaning up against the stained-glass window behind her. "They… she…. Colonel Carter's read my file," Kathy blurted out, ducking her head as she gnawed at her lip. "All of it."

The silence declared Jennifer's shock. "O-oh," she said awkwardly. "Um. I thought you would have known that."

"John has access to it, Jen," Kathy said, her forehead kneading with worry. "John can, at the click of a button, read about _every single thing_ I've done in my life." She shivered. "I know that's what I signed up for when I got this job, it comes with territory, but… I always feel so ill at ease. What if he…"

"Why would it be such a big deal?" Jennifer asked. "I mean, he's a soldier. Why would it matter to him? Do you think it'll push him away?"

"I-I don't know," Kathy said, bowing her head and continuing to chew on her lip. "I don't know anything about this guy, Jennifer. Not really. And, well… I just can't stand the way people look at me, when they find out about you-know-what. You did it yourself for a while. So did Carson, and Elizabeth. But the looks didn't stay, thank God."

"The looks?" Jennifer looked at Kathy with a puzzled expression.

"I told someone about it once," Kathy said. "I was honest. I trusted this person, so I felt that it was something that I could do. But then, they never looked at me the same. They looked at me as if I was going to break at any moment, like I was broken, like I _should _be broken… but I'm _not_ broken!" Kathy exclaimed, her fists clenching in frustration. "I healed a long time ago, and it's something I can look back on without flinching. Okay, so I do flinch, and occasionally I get a bad day, but that doesn't make me _broken_."

She bit her lip again and looked at up Jennifer. "Does it?"

Jennifer looked like she had just been caught in the headlights. "Um… you do realize you're asking the biggest foot-in-mouth person ever?"

"I realize I'm asking my _friend_," Kathy said frankly. "Foot-in-mouth doesn't mean a thing."

Jennifer nodded slowly. "All right… here's what I think. I think that yes, you've gone through a bit more than most people… or you just talk about it more than most people… and what you went through really messed you up, and left some pretty deep scars. But, I don't think that makes you broken, per se. I mean, you've moved on, you've made a life, bonded with people…"

"You're not saying something," Kathy said, looking at her friend sharply.

Jennifer winced. "Yeah, I'm not, it's just…"

"Go ahead, Jennifer. It's just us."

"I know." Now it was Jennifer doing the lip-biting. "It's just… maybe the fact that you try to keep it hidden is what _keeps_ the scars from healing. I mean, you _have_ healed, just… not all the way. And you can't heal all the way until you put it out into the light. I mean, even if _I_ mention it you start to freak out."

Kathy frowned, and Jennifer winced again, lifting her hands in a protective manner. "I'm sorry, it's just…"

"It's fine, Jennifer," Kathy said softly. "I asked for your opinion, and you gave it. There's nothing to apologize for."

"So, what about Colonel Sheppard?" Jennifer asked. "Are you going to tell him, or are you going to wait until he finds out for himself?"

"I… I don't know," Kathy sighed. "I don't even know how to _behave_ around the guy. I mean, sure, we seemed relaxed at lunch until we somehow stumbled across the area of relationships-turns out he used to be married, but got a divorce. Everything was kinda awkward after that."

"Colonel Sheppard was _married_?" Jennifer's eyebrows rose in surprise. "I can't see it."

"That's probably why it collapsed," Kathy said. "They just couldn't see it." She sighed. "It's a shame, really. In that moment, I could tell that what they had was _so good_… but they didn't know how to take care of it, how to let it grow. So they let it die."

Her eyebrows sank down. "It's sad how so many people give up without ever trying to look, _really look_, for the answer. It's right there, it's always been right there, but since when have people ever been eager for self-sacrifice?"

Jennifer nodded. Kathy could tell she was getting a little uncomfortable. Most people did when Kathy's talk turned serious. But Jennifer was too nice to say anything. And, the thing that Kathy really loved, she didn't try to avoid the talks either. She was starting to think the younger woman was actually listening when Kathy started talking like this. When they had first met she wasn't really sure.

"It's a lot of work, keeping a relationship together, isn't it?" Jennifer asked.

Kathy nodded. "It is. Seth and I have known each other for years now, and we're still laying the foundations. We haven't done anything deep. Heck, it was only until the day I left for this place that he kissed me for the first time." She chuckled. "Though, that might have been a last-bid attempt to get me to stay. It almost worked, he's a heck of a kisser it turns out."

Jennifer smiled. "Someone as sexy as your Seth, I wouldn't doubt it."

"You bet he's sexy, and he is _mine_, girl," Kathy replied, and Jennifer burst out laughing. The tension collapsed.

"He's all yours, Kathy," Jennifer gasped between giggles. "I wouldn't know what to do with a military man, anyway."

Kathy giggled too, and then her face softened. Seth. Oh, she missed her man more than she could say. His gorgeous green eyes, that short little bit of peach fuzz that substituted for hair in the Marine Corps, his deep-dimpled smile…

But, above all else, she missed their talks. About family. About work. About musicals. About each other. About themselves. About _anything_, really. And his hugs, oh, how she longed for his hugs!

"Hello, Atlantis to Kathy, Atlantis to Kathy," Jennifer called her back into the present time. "We've got some work to do, or are you going to play hooky on me?"

Kathy grinned. "Tom Sawyer. Totally."

Jennifer snorted. "Get over here."

Kathy chuckled, and walked away from the window to go join Jennifer.

**…**

John sat in his quarters, legs folded Native American style, with a touch-screen in front of him. He stared with his brow furrowed at the name of the file before him: _Sanders, Dr. Katherine I.M._

He wasn't sure if he should click it. After all, it was Kathy's personal life. She was allowed to her own privacy. But that panicked look that had appeared on her face back in the control room had made him wonder.

What was Kathy Sanders hiding? What did she _have_ to hide? Someone like her, the daughter of not one but _two_ independently wealthy parents, could attract a lot of attention. A lot of enemies. John hadn't been around when Kathy had hit her teens, the really important years in a person's life as far as development went, so he had no idea what had gone on.

It had been clear that Kathy hadn't been telling a lot of the story when they had been talking at lunch, but then neither had John. They were still getting to know each other again. But that panicked look on her face, the fear that _John might know_, had set off nearly every alarm bell in John's possession. And he possessed a lot of those.

So here he was in his quarters, with access to Kathy's file a mere tap of a finger away. As second-in-command of Atlantis, John had clearance to view the complete files of anyone who lived here. But, considering there were _hundreds_ of people who worked in the city, it was something John had never really gotten to. He read files as he saw fit.

John had long known that he would make a terrible paper pusher.

Still, he found himself hesitating. And he wasn't quite sure why. He and Kathy had just bumped into each other again. Why was it that he felt her unbroken trust was something that mattered so much? Seriously, they had only seen each other this morning. Why would he feel so inclined to _trust_ her, and wait for her to tell him on her own?

Oh, forget that. With that kind of look on her face, she wasn't going to tell _anyone_. In a million _years._

"Nothin' for it," John said, and his finger went forward to tap the name. But the finger froze right in front of the screen, as though halted by some invisible force.

John sighed.

_Really, Sheppard?_ he asked himself. _Really? Come on, what's the big deal? It's just some lady._ But even as he thought that, another voice replied. _No, she's the girl across the street. She's the girl who was born to roughhouse, and now she's a woman. She deserves a chance._

_She's hiding something,_ John argued.

_Everybody's hiding something. That doesn't necessarily make them dangerous._

_Carter read her file._

_Carter has to read _everyone's_ files. She's the head of _Atlantis_, you moron._

John sighed. _Fine. But if I've got the _slightest_ feeling that something is wrong…_

_You can blame me. Or yourself. Not much of a difference anyway._

John sighed, and rolled his eyes. _Good thing Rodney doesn't know that I engage in conversations with myself._

_What difference would it make? He already _knows_ you're insane._

_Very funny, me, very funny._

_I try._

John shook his head and stood up, tossing the tablet onto the bed before leaving his quarters. He knew he had to leave on a mission soon, and it was time to prepare. It was a busy life in Atlantis. It didn't seem to have an off switch.

But if he was honest with himself, he wouldn't have it any other way.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** I'm double-posting today for two reasons: one, I feel really bad about spacing out on updates for the past few weeks. Two, I'm posting this same story on another website, and it's a chapter ahead there, so I'm evening it out. So you guys get two chapters today! :)

Honestly, I don't quite know where the mental conversation John has with himself and… himself came from. I mean, I know I do that, but John? Well, it's all in his own head. And really, how is it that we make decisions? There's always a part of us that considers the other option. I guess that's what's going on here.

What happened to Kathy? Someone so cheerful, how could it be something so rattling? How could she become involved in something so scarring?

And Seth. Kathy already said she doesn't date (unless you haven't been paying attention), so how does she have a man? Don't worry, it will be explained eventually.


	6. Tests and Reflections

Sixteen-year-old Kathy looked at the test results and groaned, banging her head down against her desk and grumbling loudly.

Her younger brother Alex poked his head into the room. "I take it the test did not go so well," he said upon seeing her cloudy countenance.

"I failed _miserably,_ Alex!" Kathy exclaimed. "How on earth am I supposed to become a doctor if I can't tell the difference between a toenailicus and a stomachacheius?"

Alex's brow furrowed, and he looked at his sister doubtfully. "I am not entirely sure those are legitimate words," he said.

Kathy stuck her tongue out at him. "Oh, you and your fancy talk." She turned her attention back onto her paper. "Seriously, Alex, I am never going to make this thing. I suck worse than a starved vampire at a prom full of fat people."

Alex's face took on a disturbed expression, and Kathy realized what she had just said.

"Sorry," she quickly apologized. "You have to remember," she tapped her forehead, "it's pretty messed up in here."

"You speak as if I am the last who should know that," Alex remarked as he walked further into the room and sat down on the edge of Kathy's bed. "Funny, considering how much we have interacted over the past year and some."

"Hey guys!" A black-topped head poked into the room, bearing a wide and curious smile. Jay. Kathy was still getting used to this new _him_, bold and friendly instead of hiding behind Alex's shadow.

_Did I do that?_ Kathy found herself wondering.

"What'cha doin'?" Jay asked, sauntering into the room and trying to peek over Kathy's arms to see the paper bearing the hated test results. Being short made that a little difficult, however, and Kathy deliberately flipped it over to keep her little brother from finding out just how stupid she was.

"Talking," Kathy answered him. "Big kid talking, so scram."

Jay flinched slightly, achingly reminding Kathy of the tiny little kid terrified by most things and scarred by everything else. But he recovered quickly, and the twinkle reappeared in his eyes as he started bouncing and bobbing all around her in an attempt to get at the paper.

"Oh, come on, can't I just get a peek?" he whined.

"No," Kathy said firmly, planting her arms on top of the paper and leaning her weight onto it to add to the effectiveness.

Jay pouted. "You're no fun," he complained.

"Children, dinner time!" the call came from downstairs, spoken in the Russian-accented voice of Kathy's mother.

"Oh boy!" Paper forgotten, Jay spun around and bolted out of the room, the exclamation "Last one there's a rotten egg!" seeming to float in the place where he had been a second ago.

Alex and Kathy's eyes met, and they shared a laugh, an older siblings laugh. It was something Kathy was still getting used to, she had been an only child for so long. Jay had adjusted to it faster than any of them, with the possible exception of Kathy's dad Braden, who absolutely adored the boy. Alex was more Annushka's favorite, and Kathy hadn't figured out where she fit in.

Actually, she was pretty sure that she didn't.

But that wasn't her brothers' faults. They were great kids, even if they were boys. And Alex was the smartest person she knew.

"I don't suppose that's ever going to change," Alex said, looking over at the door swinging out on his hinges.

"I hope it doesn't," Kathy replied. "I like this Jay, this new Jay."

"This _real_ Jay, Katherine," Alex responded. "This is the sort of boy he ought to have been. Being here has made it happen."

"Then I guess we're the lucky ones," Kathy said, turning in her chair so that her front was leaning up against the back. "Though heaven knows I don't deserve it."

Alex looked at her, and a delightfully tender smile came upon his face, the smile that made Kathy feel so warm and happy and full. Was this the smile of a brother? If so, then Kathy was sorry she had to wait so long to find it.

Alex scooted back from his perch on Kathy's bed, crossing his legs. "Now, Katherine, about that test," he said. "May I see it?"

Kathy looked over at the downturned sheet, biting her lip. She really didn't want Alex to see this, this… failure. It was miserable.

"It's dinnertime…" she began.

"Katherine." It was that commanding tone, the one that Kathy had learned was always best to listen to, for her own good as well as others'.

Kathy sighed, and reluctantly passed over the paper. Alex stretched out one of his ridiculously long arms and snagged it without having to change his position, and perused it thoughtfully.

"This is not bad," he said after a while.

"Not bad?" Kathy exclaimed. "Alex, how is a 10 and a half percentage on a test _not_ _bad_?"

"Considering you have been extremely slack with your studies in your teens, it is not bad," Alex replied.

"What do you mean, slack?" Kathy demanded. "I get through all of my classes."

"Without accessing so much as an _nth_ of your ability!" Alex snapped, blue eyes flashing angrily. "Katherine, you have a massive source of intellect, but you haven't the slightest idea of how to access it, and you haven't made the slightest attempt!"

Kathy stared at her brother openmouthed. "I… what… but…"

"Katherine! Alexander! Dinner _now_!" Mrs. Sanders shouted irately from downstairs.

Alex sighed and unfolded his legs. "We had best go," he said. He stood up and went to the still-open door, watching Kathy expectantly until she stood up and followed after. As usual, he let her go out first and then closed the door behind them both. He was a gentleman like that.

Kathy went down the stairs, receiving a critical look from her mother for her faded jeans and rumpled tee shirt. Alexander passed her a look that said _patience, the dinners she goes to have black ties and formal gowns._

Kathy sent a responding one that said, _I've grown up with this woman, you think I don't know that?_

Alex chuckled.

Kathy opened the dining room doors and braced herself for another strained dinner with her mother.

**…**

"Any beer left?" John asked as he opened the fridge.

One of his fellow dwellers-in-hell lifted a bottle. "Last one. Right here." He grinned smugly up and over at John. "All mine."

"Can't you speak any sentences with more than two words?" John asked, snatching out a water bottle and slamming the fridge door closed.

"Who cares?"

"You just did it again."

"That so?"

"And again. I think you might have a vocal handicap there, my friend."

"Don't need vocals out here, Shep," the soldier replied. "Our job in this fine piece of muck is to shoot people. Only stuff we say around here is 'Fire!'."

John nodded, secretly thinking to himself _madness, sheer and utter madness. What are we doing out here anyway?_ He shook his head as he twisted the cap off his water and tossed his head back as he gulped it down.

This little undisclosed location was not his idea of paradise. It certainly wasn't Ireland, in any case. Or even the hothouse of Arizona.

Arizona. Woah, that was some unexpected memories. John's head came back down and he took the water bottle away from his lips. How long had it been now? Hm, he had been fifteen, so that meant… five years. It had been five years now since he had left Arizona, and Kathy.

John couldn't help but grin. Crazy kid, that Kathy. Heckuva firecracker. She did Ireland proud, and contradicted the Russian stereotype to high heaven. She'd be… what? Fifteen? Sixteen? Dang. A teenager. Crazy Kathy Sanders, a teenager. Now that was a strange thought.

"Lieutenant!"

John's head shot up with several others. The man standing at the entrance pointed to John. "You, Sheppard. Need a helicopter pilot, now."

"Yes, sir!" John put his water bottle aside and jogged after the already disappearing commander. Run after this master, run after that master… and John had thought that joining the military would provide an escape from his father's dictatorship.

Oh well, at least here he could fly.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Flashbacks, yay! Didn't think we'd be having those, but here we are. By the way, Alex is actually Alexander, if anyone other than Kathy calls him Alex he will do something violent. Or fix upon you a baleful glare of cobalt blue. And Jay… trust me, when you get to know this guy you will love him.

I had trouble figuring out where John's flashback would be, then I figured _hey! Just call it an undisclosed location!_ so that was made easy.


	7. Tragedy

Kathy did not wake up in a good mood the next morning. The first thought into her head was, _Did John read my file? The panic on my face, he would have. Oh no, he probably did. He would, wouldn't he?_

Her mind followed this unhappy trail despite her ill-tempered attempts to stop it, and out of an effort to force herself to focus on other things, she rolled out of bed and headed for the shower.

Yawning as she came back out and started pulling on her uniform-showers always made her feel sleepy as well as clean, for some reason-Kathy once again went back to her previous train of thought.

"Yeah, so he _could_ have read my file," she said aloud. "He probably _did_. He definitely _should_. But that doesn't necessarily mean he _has_." She fastened her watch around her wrist, tugging it this way and that until it was located satisfactorily. "Besides," she continued, "next time I talk to him, I'll be able to see it for myself."

She paused. "Wait, next time? When did I decide there would be a next time? We've gone four years without seeing each other, we can go another four without hearing a word of each other again."

Kathy wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad thing.

She sighed and shook her head. "Well, face it, Kathy girl, you won't find out by standing in the bathroom worrying." She shook her soggy head and rummaged through her drawers in search of the hair dryer.

Later, as ready for the day as she could get, Kathy went out into the mess hall, and found herself standing in line behind John Sheppard.

She closed her eyes slowly. _Okay, God, I think I got your point._ Her eyeballs rolled in an exasperated and slightly irritated gesture towards the heavens, and she thought again, _I think I got your point!_

"Hey, John," she said, forcing her voice to be bright and cheery.

John turned and looked at her, and it was rather obvious that he hadn't had his coffee yet. "We meet again," he replied in a rough morning voice. "Have you been following me?"

"Actually, no," Kathy said, pointing behind John for him to see that the person ahead had moved forward. They shifted position. "It seems that while before we couldn't find each other, now we can't stay away from each other."

"Well, there's always offworld," John said. "From what I understand you don't go there." He was watching her casually, but Kathy could see the sharpness in his eyes. No, he hadn't read her file. But oh, he was a sharp one. He would be watching. And the slightest warning would send him deep into her paperwork.

"No, not really," Kathy replied, trying to squelch the impulse to shudder. "Not my thing."

"That's what Rodney said," John answered. "It still isn't his thing, but he still does it."

"I'm not an astrophysicist," Kathy said, allowing John to scoop some steaming eggs onto her plate, holding out her hand to say when. "I, sir, am an epidemiologist. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out the difference."

"All I heard was 'ist', 'ist', and 'ist'," John said, placing a healthy portion of eggs onto his plate. "I think the rest was Latin."

Kathy laughed, and something inside of her finally released. "You didn't read my file," she said, deciding there wasn't any point in beating around the bush, and besides, she wasn't prone to do that anyway.

John looked surprised, and possibly impressed, as he reached for the bacon. There were two tongs, so they could serve themselves at the same time. "No."

"Thank you," Kathy replied with sincerity, placing two of the crispy strips next to her eggs. "It means a lot to me that you're willing to trust me, even after seeing my panic attack in Colonel Carter's office yesterday. Not every guy would do that."

"I still might," John said, a warning note in his voice, as though to say that a bit of flattery or gushing wouldn't stop him. Good, Kathy thought. She found it hard to respect guys like that anyway. John seemed to realize that he was about to place a ninth piece of bacon on his plate, so he stopped and put the tongs and the strip back in their place.

"I wouldn't be surprised," Kathy replied, grabbing an English muffin and slathering on the cream cheese. "You're a leader, it's your duty to make certain that your people are safe. That comes before opinions anytime. I'm just grateful that you decided to give me a chance."

"I thought that I could," John said, passing over the English muffins for a bagel and also laying the cream cheese on thick. "Don't make me think otherwise."

"I can only try," Kathy said honestly. "Since I barely know you, I don't know exactly what would make you think otherwise." Finally, the orange juice! Kathy grabbed a cup and poured it up to the lip.

"Well then, I guess that means you'll have to get to know me better," John said as he poured himself some orange juice too, and swooped down upon the coffee.

Kathy followed him. "That ought to be interesting," she said. "But, I was supposed to have coffee with Jennifer yesterday, and I promised I'd make up for it today since my original meeting for this morning has been moved to another time. So, catch up with you later."

"See ya," John said, and they split off to go to their separate tables.

Kathy walked up to where Jennifer was sitting, busily working on her tablet, and with a loud sigh, said, "Well, my morning's been an interesting one."

"Been up since three a.m., don't talk to me about mornings," Jennifer replied distractedly, still focused on the tablet.

Kathy set her tray down and gently nudged Jennifer's device aside. "Girl, save it for later. You are here, with breakfast and coffee, to relax, and have a little girl time. Pick up the tablet when work time comes around."

Jennifer sighed and reluctantly set the tablet away. "You know, technically I'm the one who gives _you_ orders?"

"Yeah, well, you knew you wanted to stop anyway," Kathy chuckled. She smiled when she noticed the empty mug by Jennifer's hand. "I see you've already had your coffee."

"Three so far," Jennifer replied. "First one was horrible, though, so I didn't finish it. I think I might have accidentally gotten myself black."

Kathy chuckled. "Three in the morning, I wouldn't be surprised. Want a refill?"

"Actually, breakfast sounds appealing after three doses of caffeine," Jennifer said.

"Oh, don't I know that," Kathy said. She sighed theatrically. "College."

Simultaneously, both women said, "The pits."

"For anyone who values sleep, anyway," Kathy said. "Ah, me? Stuff's overrated."

Jennifer's eyebrows went up as she forked a piece of eggs. "Give it up, Kathy. You're not fooling anyone."

Kathy pouted. "A girl can dream, you know."

Jennifer smiled. She took a bite of her eggs and reached for her orange juice. The two friends nibbled and talked, starting out light but inevitably ending up on the serious end of things.

"So, how's Major Lorne's team?" Kathy asked. "I kinda zoned out for the rest of yesterday after I went to see Colonel Carter, so I never got the news. Was I right about the poison?"

"More right than you know," Jennifer replied, forehead creasing in worry. "They're alright for now, but they're pretty traumatized, and starting to look a bit feverish. The only reason I came in here at all is that I was practically begged to by the other doctors. I'll be alerted if anything happens."

"Poor Lorne," Kathy said. "Last week he tried to kill people in his sleep, and now he tried to kill people in a fit of poison-induced paranoia. Are they conscious?"

"Right now, yes. They don't remember anything."

Both seemed to realize that their trays were empty and neither had enough appetite for seconds, so together they got up and left. Kathy noticed that John watching her leave. The guy was so observant it scared her.

They exited the hall and headed for a transporter. "So, do we know exactly what is was that got introduced into their system?" Kathy asked.

Jennifer shook her head in the negative. "No," she said. "Our chemists and toxicologists are still trying to figure it out. They're thinking it could have been absorbed through their skin."

"Oh, those ones are just miserable to trace," Kathy said as they stepped into the transporter.

"It looks like it may be a chemical derived from a natural source, probably a plant," Jennifer said, stepping out as the doors opened and they exited into a new location. "We can't be sure, though. According to our experts, it couldn't exist in the environment of either the planet Lorne's team went to or the planet they came from."

"So a third planet's involved?" Kathy asked, dodging as someone bolted for the transport. "Great."

"Yeah, Colonel Sheppard's not too thrilled about it," Jennifer said. "Neither is Dr. McKay, for that matter. They say that searching for it is going to be like looking for a needle in a haystack, except there are three needles and twice as many haystacks."

She stopped a beat and frowned. "No, that doesn't make sense. I meant three needles and three haystacks."

"Same thing, right?" Kathy asked. "So this means that so far we have very little, if anything at all. I'm guessing this is why you've been up since three a.m."

"Bingo," Jennifer replied, unconsciously rubbing at her eyes. "I feel like crap and the results have been crappier. Dr. Parrish and Dr. Neal are going to start going for each other's necks soon."

"Jon Parrish and Isaac Neal?" Kathy grimaced. "Who put those two in a room together?"

"Dr. Parrish is a botanist; Dr. Neal a toxicologist," Jennifer explained. "This chemical, poison, whatever it is, belongs in both and neither of their arenas. They can't agree on anything, and each insists that it belongs solely under their supervision."

"Oy," Kathy sighed in sympathy for her friend. "Three a.m. is bad, but with those two together? Yikes. And didn't you say that some of the chemists were involved, too?"

"Yes, Dr. Pokorny's heading that team," Jennifer told her. "Thankfully, he hasn't been as much of a problem."

"Yeah, Jeff's pretty easygoing," Kathy said. "Good thing, with Jon and Neal working together."

"Oh, he's a saint."

"And cute besides," Kathy added. Jennifer couldn't help but giggle. "Gotta love Texans."

Kathy looked over at her friend, who had lost her grin and was looking thoroughly unhappy with the situation. "I could see if I can help out with anything," she offered. "I do have a Master's in toxicology, so I'll be able to understand some of what they talk about. At the very least I can calm Jon and Neal down."

"For that alone I will throw in there!" Jennifer exclaimed, her relief clear to see. "Thanks, Kathy. No, really. There is going to be homicide soon if those two don't get their feathers unruffled."

"I'm friends with them both, so they'll listen to me," Kathy said. "Which lab are they-"

"Dr. Keller!"

Kathy and Jennifer's heads swung up to see who was there. Dr. Neal was just exiting the infirmary, bearing an anxious expression. The moment he saw Jennifer he ran up to her and said, "Dr. Keller, there's been an accident. We need you to come see this."

His expression was filled with horror. Kathy's heart shook with fearful worry.

"A-alright," Jennifer stammered, clearly taken aback by Neal's intense manner, and the words _there's been an accident_. Those were the worst words any doctor could ever hear. "There are some test results in the infirmary for Major Lorne's team-"

"_Now_, Doctor!" Neal stressed, taking her arm. Jennifer nodded quickly and followed Neal without resistance. They spun around and took off down the same hallway Jennifer and Kathy had walked up just a moment before. Kathy watched them dash into the transport and disappear, holding her tablet like a book wrapped up in her arms.

She sighed, shaking her head. Here she was again, left out of the loop. She hated being left outside of things.

But wasn't that just what she had wanted?

**…**

Meanwhile, John had been hailed on his comlink, and a very agitated Dr. Pokorny told him to come to his, Dr. Parrish and Dr. Neal's lab immediately. John told him that he'd be there right away, and took off running.

The alarm in the scientist's voice made John worry. That wasn't the _ooh, I found a new shiny_ voice or the _I can't find my pocket protector_ voice, that was the _holy crap something just went seriously wrong_ voice.

John hated the _holy crap something just went seriously wrong_ voice. It always meant that something had just gone seriously wrong.

And after what had happened yesterday, John really wasn't too keen on finding out how things had just gotten worse.

He entered the nearest transport, selected the place closest to the lab, and sprinted out once the doors reopened. Less than a minute later he was skidding to a halt inside the overview of the lab, where he found Rodney, Dr. Keller, and Colonel Carter.

"What is it?" he asked, slightly breathless from his run.

Keller nodded down, and John looked through the massive overview windows.

"_Holy-!_"

The room was a massive fog. Something liquid was bubbling and frothing and spilling all over the place, and John couldn't figure out where on earth it was coming from.

"We were just running some tests," a mournful Dr. Parrish said weakly, teary-eyed as he held an icepack against his forehead, hiding whatever damage was underneath. Dr. Pokorny was crouched next to him, mutely staring at the malevolent fog beyond the window. "I stepped out of the room, and then-boom," Parrish finished. His eyes closed and he moaned. "Oh, this is awful."

"Who was in there?" John asked.

"Most of Dr. Neal's assistants, some of Dr. Pokorny's assistants, and all of mine," Parrish replied. "They're… they're all…"

"Oh hell." John turned his head back to the window. The fog grew thicker all the time, but now he thought he could see the faintest outlines of bodies.

"Whatever that stuff is, it's toxic," Dr. Parrish stammered. "Deadly toxic."

John looked at Colonel Carter with an alarmed expression. "This stuff is in Major Lorne's team."

Colonel Carter looked grim. "I know, Colonel. I've told the doctors to watch them even more carefully for any change. Lorne's not happy about it, but he's not going anywhere."

"Why aren't we venting this stuff?" Rodney asked, gesturing out at the fog.

"If we vent it we lose the only samples we have," Carter replied. "Then we have nothing to test with."

John's brow furrowed. "We still have Lorne and his men, though," he said.

"Their bodies have broken down and absorbed the poison," Dr. Keller told him. "What we extracted for the original tests was all we were going to get."

John sighed. "Of course it was."

"We have the digital data," Dr. Neal said, speaking for the first time. For such an intimidating scientist in the lab, his voice wasn't as deep as John would have expected it to be. "It's nowhere near enough, but it's all we have."

John looked over at Colonel Carter. The commanders, first and second, exchanged looks. Without uttering a sound, the two reached an agreement.

"Vent it," Carter said. "Now. I want as little damage to the computers as possible. Colonel, assign some men to take care of the bodies. Bring them to the infirmary, we'll need an autopsy ASAP."

"Yes, ma'am." John turned on his heel and walked away. A few minutes later he and a Marine detail had placed the bodies on gurneys covered with white sheets. The hardest part was walking through the infirmary, because that was where Major Lorne's team was.

It had been determined that whatever had caused them to act the way they did before wasn't contagious, so there wasn't any need for them to be in iso. Major Lorne's eyes grew wide at the sight of the bodies being transported through the infirmary, as did those of his men, and he stepped forward.

"Sir?" it was a question, but the Major already knew the answer. "What happened?"

"Something went wrong with one of the tests," John said tiredly, head sagging as though it could no longer keep itself up. "These people died because of it."

A look of horror and fear came into the Major's face. He looked at the passing gurneys, and John knew he was counting. John knew that he had been counting the whole time.

"Do you know what happened, sir?" Lorne asked.

"That's what we're trying to figure out, Major," John sighed. Days like this were exhausting. More dead, more people who had no idea how to protect themselves slain, more kids who wouldn't return home.

It was a heavy job, being a leader, being responsible for all these people, feeling the crush every time one of them was lost day after day after day.

Major Lorne looked back at John, and the colonel got the strangest feeling that the other man knew exactly what he was thinking.

"Yes, sir," was all the major said, giving his superior a slight nod. He turned around and went to his men, shoulders squared as he prepared to tell them the news.

No, being a leader was not an easy thing.

John turned and watched as the last gurney went past. _Eleven,_ his mental count finished, and he sighed heavily and left the infirmary to tell Colonel Carter that the bodies had been delivered.

There were some days when he wished he hadn't run away from home.

**…**

Kathy noticed Jennifer the moment she walked into the infirmary. The woman's stature was slumped, heavy, and there was a grieved look to her eyes.

Making certain that her project was safe to leave, Kathy did just that and went over to her friend. She had come in with Drs. Parrish, Neal, and Pokorny, Jon holding an icepack to his forehead, Neal looking his usual grim self, and Jeff with visible tear tracks down his face.

Kathy looked over at them worriedly as she reached Jennifer. "Hey, Jon and Neal didn't-"

"No," Jennifer shook her head. "Dr. Parrish slipped and hit his head."

"Oh." Kathy stepped a little closer to Jennifer. "What happened? You look awful. Everyone who's been coming through here does, and I heard somebody say something about eleven dead…?"

Jennifer sighed, leaning against a counter behind her for support. "It was the poison, the one that was making Major Lorne and his men act so paranoid earlier. Dr. Neal had to… answer the call, Dr. Pokorny had remembered something he'd left in his own lab, so he and one of his assistants were down there, and Dr. Parrish had stepped out for a moment to see what was taking them, and…"

She shook her head, her face in her hands. "I don't even know," she confessed, her voice cracking. "You were there when Dr. Neal fetched me. When we came in there was just smoke everywhere and the chemical was bubbling and the section was shut down and we could only watch as the people…"

_Oh God, no. She didn't see this. She didn't. Oh please, please tell me she didn't see this..._

Kathy took one of Jennifer's hands and tried to squeeze some strength into it. "Jen?" she asked softly. "It…" She wanted to say _it's okay_, but it wasn't, was it? Kathy felt as scared as Jennifer did, and she hadn't even been there. But looking into her friend's eyes now Kathy knew that Jennifer needed something, anything to lean on right now.

"I'm here," Kathy said simply, and Jennifer nodded jerkily, her gratitude all in her eyes. "I'm ready to help with any work if you want me to," Kathy volunteered. "Tests, research, shoulder rubs…"

Jennifer didn't smile. "I told you that I'd throw you in there just to keep the air clear between Dr. Parrish and Dr. Neal. That offer's still open, if… if you still want it."

Kathy nodded, gripping Jennifer's hand tight. "Absolutely, Jen," she said, even while thinking _I really, really don't want to do this._ "Anything you need, I'm your woman."

"Thank you, Kathy," Jennifer said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Kathy nodded. "I'm going to check on the others," she said.

"Okay," Jennifer said. "I need to get to work, anyway."

Feeling reluctant and desperate to go all at once, Kathy turned and walked away. She went over to where a handful of doctors were taking care of Jon. Jeff and Neal apparently weren't injured at all, they were just there for him. As much as the scientists here could bicker, they never wanted to see each other suffer. Neal looked shaken as he stood broodingly over Jon. Shaken enough that Kathy could see it. She rubbed the back of his shoulder soothingly as she came up, and felt him relax some under the touch.

"You okay?" Kathy asked, addressing Neal in a quiet whisper.

"My assistants were just killed by a toxin that shouldn't even be capable of the action it just took," Neal said shortly. "I hate alien worlds, alien toxins, alien galaxies. They don't seem to understand what the borders are."

"That's what makes them alien, Neal. They're from beyond the borders."

"And that's why my people are dead," Neal said, his tone flat and angry. "I wish I could kill someone right now, but what is that going to accomplish?"

Kathy remained silent, soothingly rubbing Neal's shoulder. The scientist was strangely fit, considering his occupation, and the shoulder beneath her hand felt strong. But Kathy knew better. Isaac Neal had never been more vulnerable than he was right now.

Eventually she stepped away from Neal and took the few steps needed to reach Jon, who was sitting on the edge of a gurney as a doctor inspected the gash on the side of his forehead. Kathy recognized the doctor to be Tobias Cook, but she didn't acknowledge him for the moment.

Jon looked pretty beat up, but Kathy had seen worse. She expressed sympathy for his injury, and Tobias confirmed that he had a concussion as well, he had taken quite the fall.

"You're lucky you didn't break your nose," Kathy said, sitting down on the gurney facing Jon.

"My nose?" Jon mumbled, eyes distant. "What's that… compared to all those people?"

"You couldn't have known, Jon," Kathy said gently. "It's not your fault."

"Isn't it?" Jon demanded, focus snapping back and directing itself on her. Tobias pulled his chin the other way so he could see the gash more clearly. "Those people were put under me, Kathy! It was my first time being in charge of anything, and I got them killed. I got _all_ of them killed." He moaned. "It should have been me…"

"Stop that talk," Kathy said harshly. "It should _not_ have been you, it shouldn't have been anybody! It was an _accident_, Jon Nicholas Parrish, and there is nothing that can be done to change that. You can blame yourself all you want, but you're only making more of a burden for yourself, and a burden you're not meant to carry, what's more."

"Yeah, you're one to talk," Jon muttered resentfully. "Last I checked, _I_ wasn't the one who gets panic attacks whenever offworld missions are mentioned."

Oh, that was a slap in the face.

"Dr. Parrish, I'm going to stitch this," Tobias interrupted at the appropriate time. "You'll probably want some morphine to deaden the pain."

"I don't give a darn," Jon snarled, and the military doctor just shook his head and calmly ordered another doctor to fetch him some morphine.

Kathy figured this was her cue to leave, since in a little while Jon wouldn't be coherent anymore. Besides, she hadn't talked with Jeff yet. Of course, Jeff Pokorny wasn't really one you had to ask questions of-you could see the answers right on his face.

"Can you manage?" Kathy asked Tobias.

The old gentleman smiled. "Kathy, I survived eight years at the SGC and another six in the Cold War," he reminded her. "There isn't much I _can't_ handle."

Kathy nodded as she saw his point: she was outclassed. But he put it kindly, so she didn't mind. Whispering a last word of comfort to Neal as she passed him, Kathy went over to where Jeff was standing at the door. The man towered over everyone in the room, weeping silently. Kathy had always found it strange how he could cry so strongly without making a sound.

"You okay?" she asked softly as she came up.

Jeff tried blinking rapidly but resorted to wiping a sleeve across his face to clear his vision. He looked down at Kathy. "I knew those guys," he said brokenly, making no attempt to curb his flow of tears. "Every single one."

"That's more than I can say," Kathy admitted. "It hasn't really hit me yet. I'm still in shock. I just can't cry, not yet, anyway." Her expression was one of melancholy. "The tears will come, though. They always do."

Jeff nodded, sniffing as he again had to use his sleeve to bring his sight back into his possession. "I know what you mean," he said, voice choked.

Kathy rubbed her hand up and down his long arm comfortingly. "I'm really sorry, Jeff," she said sadly.

"It's not your fault," Jeff replied, looking down at her through his tears. "How could it ever be?"

"If you ever need any help, Jeff, just let me know," Kathy told him. "And I'm serious about that."

"You always are about your promises, Katy," Jeff replied. He shook his head. "Gosh, I mean Kathy. I still get you mixed up with my little sister."

Kathy found herself cracking a smile. "Well, getting mistaken for a Texan is always an honor."

"You got that right," Jeff nodded, still with tears pouring themselves from his eyes. He took a breath to steady himself. "We need to go. Colonel Carter's called a meeting, and you're to come, too."

Kathy blinked up at Jeff in confusion. "I am?" she asked. "Why?"

"I don't know," Jeff replied. "But she does."

"Okay." _Now why would she want me?_ Kathy wondered. "Well, just a sec, I need to take care of my research." She moved quickly across the infirmary, closed everything up, and then went with Jeff out to the transport and off to the meeting with Colonel Carter and the rest of the leadership in the conference room.

Going to a meeting with the head of Atlantis twice in two days? That was more than she had done in the previous three years she had been here. Well, except for meetings regarding the project with the Hoffan drug, which Kathy was still working on. Progress was very slow lately. Work was just so much harder to do without Carson around.

She took a seat along with the rest of the group, next to Jennifer. Altogether, it was Colonel Carter, John, Ronon Dex, Teyla Emmagan, Dr. McKay, Neal, Jeff, Jennifer, and herself seated around the table. All eyes went to the woman sitting at the head.

"All of you know what happened in Dr. Neal, Dr. Parrish, and Dr. Pokorny's lab today," Colonel Carter began. "We have a total of eleven dead scientists, a great tragedy."

There were somber nods around the table. _I won't argue with that,_ Kathy thought.

"Due to the fact that we had to vent all air from the lab, we now have no poison to run tests with," Colonel Carter continued. "We still don't know what it is or where it came from, so it seems that we are left with almost nothing to go on.

"However, we do have digital records of the poison's properties and of most of the tests run on it. Using simulations, we'll have to figure out what it is, what it comes from, where that comes from, how to get there, and, if it comes to that, who administered it."

"So we're working blind?" Kathy asked, just as John said, "You think someone did this to Lorne?" They stared at each other, and John gestured for her to go first, but she shook her head.

"Just a comment," she said. "Questions take priority."

"What makes you think that someone did this to Lorne?" John asked again.

"After their physical examinations, we found small puncture marks around Major Lorne and his men's veins," Jennifer said. "And we did manage to tell that the chemical had in fact entered directly into their bloodstream."

John looked furious. "And you didn't come forward with this before _why_, Dr. Keller?" he demanded.

"I-we thought it wasn't connected before," Jennifer stammered, intimidated as she always was by shows of aggression. "We thought it was _us_ who had given them the shots."

"Yeah, easy John," Kathy said, giving him a sharp look. "Attack dogs don't go for their handlers' throats."

John didn't look like he appreciated the comparison, and started to make a reply.

"Colonel, Doctor," Colonel Carter called for both of their attention. "Attack dogs also don't go for each other's throats; not when they work for the same side. Right now we need to figure out what has been introduced into the bloodstreams of Major Lorne's team and get it _out_."

"Didn't Dr. Keller say that their bodies had already broken it down?" Teyla asked. "Doesn't this make Major Lorne's team safe?"

"With as little as we know about this chemical, we can't risk assuming that," Colonel Carter replied. "Now, Dr. Pokorny, Dr. Neal, I need you to get started on those digital files immediately. Dr. Parrish will join you when he is released from the infirmary, and in the meantime Dr. Sanders will assist you."

John looked puzzled about that, Kathy noted.

Jeff raised a tentative hand. "Colonel Carter, ma'am?" he asked. "I would prefer-actually, I think I can say that all of us would prefer working without assistants. Too many people have died today already, and I don't want any more joining them."

"Agreed, Dr. Pokorny, and that is why you-and your assistants-will be supplied with hazmat suits."

Jeff looked like he wanted to disagree, but Colonel Carter's counterpoint was solid. He let it rest.

"Dr. Keller," Colonel Carter went on, "Keep an eye on the state of Major Lorne's team. The _nanosecond_ anything changes, I want to know. Colonel Sheppard, you are to stay on hand should Dr. Keller need any assistance in restraining Lorne's team again. Ronon, Teyla, I would appreciate it if you would help him. McKay, keep looking for those planets. Let's get to work, people."

Everyone jumped up and scrambled out. Kathy paused a moment and placed a hand on Jennifer's shoulder as she said, "You can do this."

Jennifer looked back at her doubtfully. "Thanks, Kathy," she replied hollowly. "But you're the only one here who thinks that."

Kathy was about to answer and try to bolster Jennifer's confidence, but Jeff called to her from the door and so Kathy had to run off with her words unsaid.

* * *

><p>Hey guys, I'm back! *wave* Things are better now, the change still happened but it has been for the best.<p>

Oh, and in case you were wondering-yes, Kathy is Christian. Well, Catholic, but close enough I suppose. Anyway, she is a firm God, Son, Holy Spirit believer.

And lol, Dr. Neal isn't leaving me alone. Neither is the mental image of Niall Matter. So now I suppose it is established, Dr. Neal is Niall Matter. (And Dr. Pokorny would be Jared Padalecki. That one I did do on purpose.)


	8. Downhill

Hey, just a warning: there is some language here. It's blanked out, but I thought you'd appreciate a warning. Cussing is not typical stuff for me to write, but in this case it couldn't be worked around.

~A

* * *

><p>How many hours had it been so far? Kathy checked her watch and grimaced at the time it showed: just shy of one o'clock in the morning. That meant it had been sixteen hours. No one had slept, and word from the infirmary was that the temperature of Major Lorne's team was continuing to climb.<p>

It turned out that Kathy had been right in saying that someone needed to be around to keep Jon and Neal calm. The two were totally unpredictable, one moment curt and distant, the next exploding in each other's faces. Kathy had to physically drag them away from each other.

Jeff on the other hand was withdrawn. He spoke only the occasional word to the handful of assistants circling around him, and for the first time Kathy saw his face completely closed. He seemed to be a man of stone.

Kathy didn't try to cheer any of them, she knew there was no point in that right now at this time, so she tried to keep them focused on their work. Occasionally she would drift between the three scientists, checking on what each of them was doing. The continually frustrating truth was that no one was getting anywhere. There was just too little to work with.

Kathy glanced up at Jeff from where she was sitting, worry creasing her brow as her eyes left the pages of the open Bible on her lap.

She was searching for verses on healing, or things regarding the calmness or unsettledness of the mind. She had figured Proverbs would be a good place to look, but already she had reached chapter nine and all she had found so far was encouragements to gain wisdom, discouragements to follow folly, and warnings against adulteresses. Good stuff, but not what she was looking for right now. Well, she did have another twenty or so chapters to go.

Kathy looked back down at read the first words of the ninth chapter.

"Wisdom has built her house;

she has hewn out its seven pillars."

_Hm, maybe Proverbs wasn't the place to look,_ Kathy thought to herself. _Oh well, I'll finish anyway. Maybe then I'll look in Psalms—_

Her thoughts were interrupted by raised and heated voices, and with a frustrated sound that was a mixture of growl and sigh, Kathy closed her Bible around her finger and went to separate Jon and Neal again.

They stood toe to toe, Jon gesturing with his arms angrily as Neal glared at him with contempt.

"Hey, hey!" Kathy shouted over them. They turned to direct irritated and angry eyes on her. "What is it this time?" Both started to answer, but she snapped up her hand and shook her head. "Never mind, I don't want to know, I know it's stupid already.

"Listen, guys, I've tried to be patient with you. I know we're all short on sleep and you've been working nonstop, but we are not going to get anywhere if there is a nuclear explosion every three minutes."

"But—"

"_E-nough_!" Kathy snapped. "Major Lorne and his men are gonna be toastier than Mercury soon, and you two are not helping them any with your constant bickering! Good grief, McKay gets along with people better than you two!"

Jon and Neal had the decency to look ashamed, but Kathy wasn't buying their apparent contriteness just yet.

"Honestly, if there is another outbreak between you two, I am going to kick you out and do this job myself," Kathy exclaimed. "And considering I don't know how to do any of this, I don't think anyone would want that, would they?"

Jon and Neal mumbled incoherently and with sullen expressions shuffled back off to their work. Kathy sighed and shook her head, exhausted with the two scientists.

"Tension, I love it," she sighed. "This keeps up somebody's gonna choke on the air." She really felt like cussing, but Kathy had long ago learned that losing control of your tongue just sends everything else sliding downhill.

With another irritated shake of her head, Kathy turned to go back to her chair, but then she paused. Turning back around, Kathy found her attention fixed on the image projected on Neal's laptop screen. Still carrying her Bible, Kathy walked over to him and looked at it thoughtfully.

"That's a molecule."

Neal nodded as he tapped on his keyboard, lips turned down in a frown. "It is," he said curtly, and Kathy knew he was angry at her for the tongue-lashing she had just given him. Huh, if he thought _that_ was a tongue-lashing, he should meet her sister-in-law.

"A molecule from the poison, I'm assuming."

"Blown up to several billion times its size, yes." Still he wasn't looking at her. It was like a version of the Silent Treatment.

"What, only that?" Kathy asked. "Seems a small amount. It must be a big molecule."

Neal finally looked over at her, his eyes holding surprise. "Yes, it is rather large," he said, eyebrows furrowing. "How did you know that?"

Kathy shrugged. "It looks like a big molecule," she said. "Lots of spare room."

Neal nodded again. "Yes, that is the strange part," he said, looking over at the screen and adjusting the reading glasses perched on his nose. "A molecule this size, it shouldn't have so much spare room. That room is designed to be taken up, no matter what the size of the molecule is."

"So there's something unusual about this molecule."

"Oh, definitely. I just don't know what yet."

Kathy looked over at him. "You didn't tell me you had a lead."

Neal shook his head. "I don't. Not until it comes to something." He looked at the image on his screen. "I've been staring at this picture for hours, and nothing has come of it."

"Try changing the angle," Kathy suggested. "You know, look at it from a different view."

Neal looked at her.

Kathy shrugged. "It's something my brother says," she told him. "It's what he tells his students to do whenever they're up against a wall."

Neal nodded slowly. "That's good advice." He looked at the molecule. "I've turned it around, but I haven't tried changing the angle…" With a few instructions to the laptop, the sphere tilted and turned, until Kathy said "Stop" as Neal simultaneously did so.

They leaned in.

"Are those… lines?" Kathy asked.

Neal grinned. "No," he said. "They're layers."

"Like a Russian doll," Kathy marveled. "A molecule within a molecule within a molecule."

"Oh, that's good," Neal said, his admiration clearing shining through. "Whoever did this to Major Lorne's team is obviously a psychopath, but come on, you've gotta admit they're a brilliant one." Gesturing to the altered image excitedly he said, "This could be what has been hiding the origin of the poison from us for so long. They've found a way to layer their molecules, but if we peel them back—"

"We've got ourselves an ID," Kathy finished. She slapped Neal on the shoulder. "Oh, well done, Neal."

"What's going on?" Jon asked curiously, coming over and followed by several of the other scientists in the room. Jeff slowly walked over, silently observing the display on Neal's laptop.

"Neal's found us a clue," Kathy said. "The molecules inside of the poison are layered."

"Layered?" Jon repeated. "I've never heard of that being possible."

"Same here, but they've done it," Neal replied. "If we peel back the layers until we reach the core molecule we can trace this poison back to its point of origin."

"And figure out an antidote," Kathy added.

Jon looked at Neal's screen a moment longer. "Send me your new information, my team will work on things from our end."

Neal nodded.

"We'll take the information too," Jeff said softly.

"Great," Kathy said. "Let's get this going."

The scientists dispersed and gathered at different points in the room, murmuring and arguing with each other in excited undertones. Kathy smiled and stepped back towards her seat, opening her Bible and reading again. This verse jumped out at her:

"The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom,

and knowledge of the Holy One is understanding."

Kathy's lips lifted in a smile. "Isn't that so," she whispered under her breath. "Isn't that so."

Looking at her watch, she figured it was about time she checked in on Major Lorne and Co. herself. The scientists in here were all busy, so she felt it would be alright if she left them for a moment.

She stood up and walked out of the lab. Entering the infirmary a few moments later, she went over to where Major Lorne and his team were sitting around listlessly. Seeing them bed-bound with such heavily flushed faces made her face soften in sympathy.

"Living in misery over here, I take it," she said, and they all turned to look at her. That's when she noticed two of the men sitting on the floor in between a pair gurneys, playing cards. She folded her arms and _tsk_ed disapprovingly.

"Shouldn't you two be in bed?" she asked, an eyebrow arching up her forehead.

"Aw, but we're not sleepy!" one of them replied without hesitation, his voice bearing a distinct Irish brogue. He turned his head to look at her since he was facing the opposite direction. Evidently doctors did not intimidate this fellow.

His compatriot grinned sheepishly. His teeth were a shocking white against the backdrop of his unnaturally ruddy cheeks.

"Hey, you won't tell on us, will you, ma'am?" he asked.

"You know, doctor-patient confidentiality and all that," the original speaker added.

Kathy grinned down at them evilly. "Oh, but you're not my patients."

Major Lorne managed a chuckle from where he was planted in his own gurney. "I told you this would backfire on you, Sergeant."

The last two men of Major Lorne's team snickered, the first sound Kathy had heard them make.

"Oh, you've done it now," one of them said delightedly.

The Irish soldier shook his fist at him and glared. "Mark my words, lad, ye won't find things so funny in a short while!"

The lieutenant only grinned back fearlessly. Kathy chuckled.

"Quite the rowdy bunch you've got here, Major," she remarked.

Major Lorne shook his head lightly at his soldier's antics. "Oh, they're good men, doctor," he assured her. "I'm sure it's just the fever making them act this way."

Kathy tried unsuccessfully to stifle a grin. "I'm sure." She became serious. "So this fever is the only sign you all are showing of the effects the poison took on you?" she asked. "I mean, other than the serious paranoia problem. It's a little hard to overlook a guy pointing a loaded gun in your face."

Lorne winced. "That was you?" he asked.

"Among others."

He winced again. "Ma'am, I'm sorry—"

"Hey, it's no fault of your own, Major," Kathy waved him off. "Don't worry about it."

He looked up at her hopefully. "We getting out of here anytime soon, ma'am?" His expression was one of frustrated patience. He knew he had no choice but to wait, but that didn't mean he liked it.

Kathy felt for him. "We're hoping so, Major," she replied. "We've found a lead, so we're working on that."

Lorne nodded. "That's good," he said.

Kathy nodded as well. They went silent for a moment, no one knowing quite what to say, and Kathy broke it by asking what all of their names were, first giving her own.

"Major Lorne," Major Lorne started to reply, but Kathy interrupted him and said, "No, I want your _first_ names too."

"Oh. I'm Major Evan Lorne," he introduced himself in full. He pointed to one of the men also lying in bed, one of the older-looking ones of the group. "That's my second, Captain Steven Reed."

Major Lorne pointed to the Irishman. "Sergeant Keenan O'Meara."

Sgt. O'Meara gave her a dazzling smile. "Pleasure, ma'am," he said, and Kathy knew in an instant that he was the charmer.

Lorne finished the introductions by indicating the two lieutenants remaining. "Lieutenant Sandy Houser and Lieutenant Michael Saint." They nodded.

"Michael… Saint," Kathy said slowly, a smile appearing on her face. "Kudos to your parents, Lieutenant."

Lt. Saint chuckled. "Believe me, I've heard that before."

"I bet." Kathy glanced down at her wristwatch, and sucked in a breath as she realized how much time had passed. "Sorry guys, I gotta go. I'm on scientist-monitoring duty, so I can't be gone for long."

"Scientist-monitoring?" Sgt. O'Meara repeated, an eyebrow arching up curiously.

"Yeah. My job is basically to keep the infighting under control."

"Huh. Didn't know they had a job for that."

"It's a volunteer kinda thing. No payment involved." Kathy started walking away. "Sorry again guys, I'd love to stay and talk with you, you're awesome, but I have to go." She turned and went out of the room.

"So we're awesome, huh?" she heard Lt. Houser remark.

"Finally, someone notices!" Sgt. O'Meara exclaimed.

"You guys are a riot," Lt. Saint snickered. "Now get back up here before the next doctor passes through."

**…**

Elsewhere in the infirmary, John sat with his boots propped up on a desk. All was quiet in the infirmary, and he was starting to find it a little difficult to stay alert. Of course, the increasing pressure of Major Lorne's team's climbing temperature made sure he would never drop off to sleep.

His stomach growled hungrily once again, and John looked down at it with a frown. "Ronon, think you can hold the fort here?" he asked. "I'm gonna go get a sandwich."

Ronon nodded, dreadlocks shifting. "Get one for me, too," he rumbled.

_And by one he means three,_ John thought to himself.

"I would appreciate one as well," Teyla added.

"You got it," John said as he headed off.

He was just outside the infirmary when he heard Keller shout, yes, _shout_, "Colonel Sheppard, we need you in the infirmary _now_!"

John spun around mid-step and bolted back into the infirmary.

"Keller, what's happening?" he demanded to know upon skidding into the infirmary. Keller didn't answer, but the man she was desperately trying to hold down answered for her.

It was Lorne. But he was unrecognizable to be. His face was flushed a terrifying red, and John thought he wasn't breathing.

"Their lungs aren't getting enough oxygen!" Keller cried. "We didn't see it coming; the poison came flooding back into their systems, and this time it's going to kill them!"

"Not today, Doc!" John snarled. He looked around, trying to find something to do, and Keller told him to hold Lorne down before he threw himself off the bed. John did so, and immediately Keller joined the doctors swarming around computer monitors and prepping needles full of temporary solutions.

John vaguely noticed Ronon, holding a writhing Sgt. O'Meara in place as the poor man's eyeballs strained to pop themselves out of his skull. Teyla was pinning Lt. Saint in place, and the boy barely seemed to have enough strength to struggle against her. A handful of Marines were assisting with the rest.

Then John's eye caught Kathy, running back through the door into the infirmary. She stood, staring in shock at the men who had been fine less than a minute before.

"Kathy, get back in the lab!" John shouted at her, raising his voice to a commanding bellow to be heard over the pandemonium. "Tell those scientists they need to hurry!"

Kathy nodded mutely, her face pale, and fled.

John focused his attention onto the trembling Lorne. The man was shaking like a leaf, sweating profusely, and if the smell was anything to go by he had just lost control of his bladder. That was always a bad sign.

"Colonel," Lorne rasped. "Colonel."

"Yeah, Lorne?" John looked down at his subordinate.

The Major's eyes stared up at him from within a puffy red face. "I'm dying, aren't I?" he grunted, wasting precious breath.

John shook his head defiantly. "You sure as hell _aren't_!" he said fiercely. "You're gonna pull through this, Lorne."

Lorne's eyes closed a moment, and labored to draw a breath, shudders running up and down his body. "You don't know that."

"I know you're a soldier, Major. D****it, you're _my_ soldier, you sure ain't gonna go without a fight, and I sure as heck ain't gonna _let_ you go without a fight!"

"'preciate it, Sir."

"You'd better. Now don't go getting all ungrateful and dying on me, you hear?"

Lorne chuckled. "No, sir. Of course not, sir. Wouldn't—_nn!_—dream of it."

Lorne's head fell back, and John turned his head to see a doctor extracting his needle from Lorne's IV drip.

"That will keep him sedated," he said. "But… it doesn't look good, Colonel."

"No," John agreed, "it doesn't." He straightened up and turned his head away. Immediately his eyes landed on the rest of Major Lorne's team, red faces and heaving chests, albeit a little more calmly now.

He was _not_ going to let these men die. He may not be a super genius like some people around here, but John wasn't going to sit around and wait for the worst. That's what he had been doing since this whole mess started. He wasn't going to do that anymore. It was time to do something, _anything_.

John took a final check. "Call me when you need me," he said curtly, and turned on his heel and stalked out of the infirmary. He headed for Parrish, Pokorny, and Neal's lab. Everyone looked up for the briefest of moments as he came in, but then returned to whatever it was that they were doing.

John looked for Kathy. She was pacing amongst the scientists, checking one task after another and murmuring soft words of encouragement. John went over to her, and she turned to face him. "Have you told them?" he asked.

"The only reason they're talking is to ask each other for equipment," Kathy replied. "What do you think?" The doctor paused a moment, face pinched with anxiety. "John… back in the infirmary," she said. "I've seen something like that before. It ended terribly. For everyone."

John didn't like the sound of that. "What happened?"

"They died," Kathy said flatly. "All of them. All we could do was sedate them and allow them to die in their sleep." She shook her head and sighed, fingers rubbing at the bridge of her nose. "Didn't think we'd have to do it for Major Lorne and his men."

"We _won't_," John said fiercely. "How close are you? Have you found an antidote yet?"

"Not even close," Kathy said with a shake of her head. "We're still trying to figure out what it originally _was_, _and_ what's been done to it. Until then, we're stuck."

"We don't have time, Kathy, we need results!" John snapped.

"I know that!" Kathy snarled, and John was taken aback by her ferocity. "You think I don't?" Angrily, she spun around and rejoined the scientists.

Dr. Pokorny had heard the raised voices, and he turned to look down at John, taking in his surprised and slightly offended look. Softly he said, "You shouldn't mess with that Irish temper of hers. Especially when she's under stress. Usually Kathy's the nicest of us, but when she gets angry everything goes up in flames. Don't try pushing her."

"Lorne and his men are _dying_, Doctor," John said harshly. "If this isn't the time to push then I don't know what is."

Dr. Pokorny nodded in agreement. "I know that. But not everyone is McKay."

John shook his head, making an irritated noise in his throat.

Dr. Neal blinked at his screen. He leaned in closer to his computer screen, brow furrowing. His hand shot out to the side, pointing at Dr. Parrish. "Parrish, what did you do," he said.

Dr. Parrish went over to him. "I took the core molecule and ran it through our databases of plant life, toxins, and chemicals," he replied, looking at Dr. Neal warily in anticipation of an explosion.

"Brilliant," Neal breathed. "For once you've done something right, Dr. Parrish." He grinned over at him. "We just got a result. Do you know what it is?"

Kathy dashed up to the group, rising on tiptoe to peer over Dr. Parrish's shoulder, and John found himself joining them. Dr. Parrish leaned in closer, reading the text and image on Dr. Neal's screen.

"Oh my… I do believe you're right, Dr. Neal. We do have something."

"What is it?" Kathy asked.

"_Taxus Baccata_, from the family _Taxaceae_," Parrish grinned. "Or something very like it."

"Great," John said. "Sounds Latin, and it means…?"

"It means a result," Parrish excitedly. "It means progress! Now that we have an idea of what to look for, we can start on an antidote!"

"You'd better start fast," John told them. "From the looks of things, Major Lorne's team can't hold out much longer."

The scientists nodded gravely. "I'll send the information to Dr. McKay," Dr. Neal said, "he can run it through the database and find any planets with the necessary environments for yew."

"Me?" John asked, confused.

"No, _yew_," Dr. Neal said exasperatedly. "_Taxus Baccata_, the yew tree."

"Oh. I knew that."

Dr. Parrish snorted.

John decided it was time to take his leave. He figured it would be best to avoid Rodney for the moment—the scientist was bound to blow a gasket at his elevated workload—and it was now that he remembered the sandwich he had been planning to get before everything had gone completely insane. He didn't have an appetite now, but he knew that his body needed fuel.

On his way to the mess hall, John hailed Colonel Carter over the comm and filled her in. She already knew about what had happened in the infirmary, Keller had told her. She was pleased with news of the breakthrough in the lab, but still her concern was obvious.

"Unless they can move a lot faster, that won't be enough," the colonel said. "According to Dr. Keller, it will be a miracle if Major Lorne's team lives another 24 hours."

"That's what I was thinking," John said. "We're not going to let them die, ma'am."

"None of us are, Colonel."

The door to the mess hall came into sight. John walked in, grabbed a few sandwiches for himself and the others, and headed back to the infirmary.


	9. Puzzle Pieces

John was finishing off his sandwich, watching Lorne's team worriedly, when Rodney called him through his mic.

"Sheppard, I've got it. I've got the planet."

John jumped up to his feet, exchanging _did you hear guys hear that?_ looks with Ronon and Teyla. They both nodded.

"That fast? You've set a new record, Rodney," John said, trying and failing to sound nonchalant.

"Well, Dr. Neal and Company decided to finally be of use," Rodney said dryly. "With the information they gave me I had a much more specific search perimeter to work within. And it's actually _planets_, nine of them."

"Sounds like we're gonna be busy," John said. He snatched up the jacket he had slung over the back of a chair and ordered the handful of Marines in the room to call in some more as they wouldn't be back for a while. They all nodded and did as John commanded.

"Carter's already scrambling some teams," Rodney said. "Naturally we're included." And naturally, Rodney didn't sound too thrilled about that.

There was silence for a moment as John, Ronon and Teyla left the infirmary. Then Rodney said, "I heard what happened in the infirmary. Is Lorne's team okay?"

"They will be," John replied stubbornly.

"Sheppard, consistently believing the impossible to be existent isn't going to save their lives."

"That's right, Rodney. We are."

Rodney sighed. "Yeah, I guess we are."

A few minutes later John's team was assembled and fully geared. A short briefing with Colonel Carter and Dr. Parrish told them what they needed to do, and they were hurled through the Stargate to another world.

**…**

Kathy felt like a snail that had just wandered into a beehive. Here in Parrish\Pokorny\Neal's lab, the three scientists were working away furiously. A glance at their keenly focused expressions told Kathy without a doubt that she was not needed here, and so silently she backed out of the room.

She stood outside in the empty hallway, the buzz of activity inside the lab muffled by its closed door. She stood there for a moment, not sure what to do. Just a short while ago she'd had her hands full just keeping the scientists away from each other's throats, but now that they had been given a common task to focus on, they weren't taking the time to aggravate or take offense. That was good.

But Kathy couldn't help feeling cut adrift. She was floating around wherever, with nothing useful to contribute. She loved help, but now there was nothing for her to help _with_. She had been out of the active field for so long, contenting herself with research, that when crunchtime came she was useless. What was worse was that she had willingly navigated herself into that corner.

Kathy gnawed at her lip, a habit of hers whenever she was nervous. _Okay, I'd really rather not think about this right now. Think of something else, something else…_

"Major Lorne," Kathy found herself saying aloud. Instantly she felt guilty, for she very selfishly wanted to stay away from the infirmary. And she knew it was selfish. Ironic, wasn't it, a doctor who didn't want to see who was in the infirmary.

Kathy continued to gnaw away at her lip, standing alone in the hallway. Finally… "Oh, come on, God!" she burst out. "I was just starting to get to know these guys! I only just found out their names! There's, there's Evan, and Keenan, and oh, what's his name… Steven! And Michael and Sandy too…"

She started pacing in the limited confines of the hallway, knowing that in this empty hall no one would intrude on her little rant against her Heavenly Father. "I mean, they've got so much to live for," she said. "How can You be taking them away now? They're not ready! They… they have no idea who You are. It only takes a glance to see that. Well, maybe Houser and Lorne, but I don't know… How can You just take them away like that, without giving them a chance?"

She paused, then nodded consent. "Okay, so You probably _have_ given them chances, but can't You give them one more? I mean, You're ever-forgiving, surely _this_ can't be too far of a stretch? These guys… they're good guys, but you know, you just can't be… _good_ _enough_. They still have to take the leap!"

Kathy sighed, her argument spent. "Okay," she said, rubbing the bridge of her nose with her hand. "You know what You're doing; I don't. Just… take care of them, God. Please take care of them."

She looked up at the ceiling, but really at something beyond the ceiling, and wondered if He would do as she had pleaded.

The lab door opened behind her, and Kathy jumped. It was Jeff who had come out, and without a word he closed the door behind him.

"_Tantsuyushchikh babochek_!" Kathy exclaimed, "You scared me, Jeff!"

Jeff cocked an eyebrow. "That language… Russian, isn't it?"

"Yeah. Dancing butterflies, something my Russian babushka says when she's startled."

"Oh yeah, you're half Russian, aren't you?"

"Russian-Jew, actually," Kathy said. "So… you came out here to…? I mean, shouldn't you be working?"

"My assistants can manage without me for a few minutes," Jeff replied. "It's not like I can't trust them to do what they're good at. I came out here to ask you about something."

"Yeah?" Kathy tilted her head curiously.

"When Colonel Sheppard was in here a few minutes ago… you said that you'd seen something that had the same effects on a whole village of people that Lorne's team is suffering right now, and that they all died," Jeff said. "What happened?"

Kathy swallowed. "I'm not too particular about talking of these things…"

"Well, get _un_particular," Jeff said without sympathy. "What you saw could be key in saving the lives of Major Lorne and his men."

_Evan Lorne, Steven Reed, Keenan O'Meara, Sandy Houser, Michael Saint._ Their names flashed across Kathy's mind almost faster than she could catch them. She looked down at the floor.

"I hadn't thought of that." Her voice was quiet.

"I had figured," Jeff replied. "That's why I came out here to ask."

"Well…" Kathy folded her arms, chin dipping down as she dug into the uncherished memories. "It was some adverse reaction to their water. There was something wrong with it, and… well, they all ended up dead. The entire village, and anyone who came there to drink their water. We lost some doctors, too. Couldn't figure out a cure for it."

She shook her head. "It didn't make sense, though. It was a clean well. It had been checked and designed to filter out anything that could cause bodily harm. It shouldn't have killed anyone. But it did; it slaughtered an entire village."

Jeff nodded silently and indicated for her to go on. Kathy paused a moment, raking her mind for other details.

"It was an isolated incident, I remember. Nothing like it had happened before and nothing like it has happened since," she said.

"Is the water still there?" Jeff asked.

Kathy shook her head. "They filled the well up," she said. "It's under at least a dozen feet of soil, and the whole area has been banned for human activity. The stuff was in the food, animals, everything. They're still trying to purge it from the land, and with no success, I've heard. The people died and their livestock died."

She paused. "Though, I do remember noticing something… the only thing that thrived in that place was the produce. The same thing that was killing the people was feeding the plants. Except the plants were poisonous, of course."

Kathy paused, pursing her lips. "It really was a strange thing. I remember thinking there were a lot of rocks for that kind of place, though."

Jeff's eyes shot wide, and he seemed to grow out of the sudden increase of his interest. "Rocks?" he repeated. "You're sure you don't mean… meteorites?"

Kathy's eyes grew wide at the proposition. "Well, it could be… I hadn't thought of it before…" Her brow furrowed. "But what does that have to do with it?"

"Well, I'm no expert on these things," Jeff said slowly. "But if it was a chemical, mineral, or whatever else carried on a meteorite that crashed into a water source… the chances are it could be from here, Pegasus Galaxy."

"That's millions of lightyears away," Kathy said.

"I know, but bear with me. Is it really all that impossible?"

Kathy hesitated, then shook her head slowly. "No… I guess not."

"And even if it's not from here exactly, it could be something related," Jeff said. "If that's the case, what you know could prove to be invaluable. Do you remember what the chemical looked like? Did you ever see it?"

Kathy nodded. "Yes I did, and I could never forget it."

"That is just what I wanted to hear," Jeff said, smiling for the first time Kathy had seen since the accident in the previous lab. "Come on, we need to go talk to Colonel Carter." He started forward.

"No, _I_ need to go talk to Colonel Carter," Kathy said, stopping Jeff with a palm against his chest. "_You_ need to go back to work."

Jeff nodded, and turned and went back into the lab. "Pokorny, about time you got back!" she heard Neal snap. "Don't leave while—" The closed door cut off the rest of his words.

Kathy stood in the hallway a moment longer, arms hanging at her sides as she stared ahead dazedly. Then a grin lit up her features, and she released a quick laugh. At last, she was somebody useful!

She spun around and dashed down the hall as fast as she could go. She entered the transporter and tapped on the appropriate location, coming out into the control room seconds later. The first person she saw was Chuck, working away at his station.

"Chuck!" she called out to the technician sharply. "Is Colonel Carter here?"

Chuck nodded in the affirmative and started to point, but then Colonel Carter turned around from where she was standing in front of the Gate and said, "Yes, and whatever you've got had better be important."

"It is," Kathy assured her. "I've got a long story for you, Colonel, but I'll try to be brief. Back on Earth I saw some mystery disease or poison, we were never sure which, take out an entire village. The symptoms were nearly identical to what is happening to Major Lorne's team, except for the increased hostility and paranoia at the beginning. We found out that it was a chemical in the water, but we weren't able to create a cure."

Colonel Carter frowned. "So you're here to tell me that you've seen something exactly the same and there's no cure?"

"No, that's not what I'm saying!" Kathy exclaimed. "Well, yes it is, but there wasn't a cure _then_. Now we have some leads to work with, Major Lorne's team may have a chance."

Colonel Carter's lips lifted slightly. "That's more like it." She looked over at the Stargate. "I just sent the last team through the Gate for samples of the Pegasus yew. I can contact them and tell them to grab water samples as well. Thank you, Dr. Sanders. Is there anything else I need to know?"

Kathy shook her head. "No." She turned to leave.

"Thank you, Dr. Sanders," Colonel Carter said again, more fervently. "Your help could prove vital."

Kathy nodded. "Yeah, well, I just hope it works." She turned again and this time left the control room.

**…**

John kept his head low as he pushed his way through the undergrowth. Gosh, this place was worse than a jungle—and John had seen his fair share of jungles. Elsewhere Ronon was growling impatiently. He couldn't use his machete to chop through everything, they couldn't risk damaging the plant they were looking for.

"_You will all be heading into jungle planets,"_ Dr. Parrish had told them._ "That is the environment this plant grows in. The Pegasus version of the yew tree is not a conifer. The leaves will be wide and dark green, glossy in appearance on the top. The berries should be either be bright red or bright orange, depending on their ripeness."_

John's lips had turned down. Jungles. Those were not his favorite places.

Animals chattered, birds shrieked and called at each other, and John thought that he saw a four-tailed squirrel… sure, this was another galaxy, but why would a squirrel need _four_ tails?

It was unbelievably dark, even though it was midday, summer, and boiling sticky hot besides. The tree branches interlaced together so tightly above, one could only see a few patches where sunlight came through. As a result, things were very shady, and the light had a green look to it, making John think of the Underworld and the Lady of the Green Kirtle.

"I really, really, _really_, _REALLY_ hate jungles!" Rodney spluttered as he had to pull another clump of vines from out of his face. For some reason he kept walking right into them. All that was left was for him to stick his foot into a beehive.

Even their guest botanist was handling this better. Of course, botanists went into jungles all the time… it kind of came with the territory.

"Keep your eyes open, Rodney," John said. "The sooner we find this plant, the sooner we go home."

"And the sooner Major Lorne's life and the lives of his men are removed from peril," Teyla added softly, and all quieted, temporarily pushing their frustrations aside to look for the besought plant.

John knew it was some kind of tree, or more like a glorified bush, that would probably look nothing like a yew—bright colored berries, probably red, and broad and glossy dark green leaves. _Not_ needles, Parrish had stressed.

The problem was that _all_ of the leaves down here were broad and glossy. Not so many dark ones, but John still had to look at them all to be sure. How did botanists tell them apart? They all look the same.

Rodney finally struggled out of the next clump of vines and immediately tripped over a root. John groaned, wanting to slap his hand to his forehead. He couldn't, unfortunately, he was a little too busy trying to keep the vegetation from eating his weaponry.

Uh-huh. Ten years later and jungles still weren't his thing.

John turned his head and started when he saw Teyla perched atop Ronon's shoulders, a hand up against a tree to hold her steady whilst the other shaded her eyes.

Dr. Stalls, their botanist, looked up at her. "See anything?" he asked. "Remember, it's not coniferous…"

Teyla continued to scan. "John," she called down to him, "I can see one! It is a tall, thickly leaved bush. The leaves are dark, they seem to catch the light, and I can see many bright berries—orange, not red."

"Which way?" John asked.

"East, a few degrees north," Teyla replied. "Two o'clock, I think you'd say."

"Two o'clock, got it," John said. He craned his neck around, searching for his frazzled scientist. "Rodney! Did you get that?"

"Do you think me deaf, Sheppard?" Rodney huffed, floundering in an attempt to get out of the giant thing he had somehow fallen into. It looked like a cross between a fern and a cabbage.

John shook his head, cracking a grin at the flustered Rodney. "You really do love your nature walks, don't you, Rodney?" he said. "Just gotta get your hands all over it."

"Just shut up and get me out of this!" Rodney snapped, waving his hands at John angrily and promptly falling on his face.

John laughed. Pointing his gun aside, he reached down and pulled Rodney up with his other. Rodney started spitting, trying to brush the grime off his spoiled uniform, and trying even harder to recover his wounded dignity.

"Come on, Rodney," John said. "It can't be that far."

"Oh, it can't, can it?" Rodney grumped. "Huh. We'll see about that."

Dr. Stalls glanced over at him. "I'm beginning to see why you're an astrophysicist," he remarked.

John shook his head with an amused chuckle, and followed after the direction Ronon and Teyla had taken. About ten minutes later (which _was_ far, Rodney complained) they reached the tree, and according to the Dr. Stalls, it was just the one they were looking for.

"Hello, gorgeous," Dr. Stalls said, smiling fondly at the plant. Yep. It had long been established in John's world that botanists were weird.

John tilted his head back to look up at the massive bush. It was pretty, in its own killer plant sort of way.

"Okay guys, let's start plucking this thing," John said, pulling a set of thick gloves out his pack, cloth on the inside, rubber on the outside. "The boys back home want as many leaves, twigs, berries, and bark samples as possible."

"How about a sapling?" Ronon suggested, lifting the proposed object he had ripped out by the roots.

John blinked at it for a moment. He then looked over at Dr. Stalls, who nodded, and turned back to Ronon. "That works," he decided. "See if you can find any extras. I don't want to come back here again if I can help it."

"We'll still have to harvest the main plant for berries, the saplings are much too immature," Dr. Stalls said. "Oh, and Mr. Dex? Don't handle the bark so much, that's poisonous too."

Ronon looked down at the sapling in his hand, eyebrows bouncing upwards. "Oh." He shrugged, passing it over to Rodney and pulling on the pair of gloves Teyla handed to him.

Rodney panicked as the uprooted bush was placed into his gloved hands for him to hold. "Wha-what are you thinking?" he spluttered. "This stuff is so poisonous—"

"Relax, Rodney, it only damages you if it gets into your bloodstream," John said, looking up from the bush he was digging up.

"Have you ever heard of _skin absorption_?" Rodney hissed.

"Would you rather help us with digging these up, Rodney?" John asked, waving the sharpened spade in his hand. "These shovels can get pretty sharp." He waggled his eyebrows dramatically. "People lose fingers."

Rodney backed away. "No, no, that won't be necessary."

"Of course it won't be," John muttered under his breath, and resumed his work.

Altogether they brought back five fair-sized bushes. The scientists swooped upon them and took them away almost before John had time to blink.

Colonel Carter looked surprised when she beheld John's group standing in the control room.

"Colonel," she said. "I hadn't expected you back so soon." She paused, thinking a moment. "Well, I've already called the other eight, so it probably won't be necessary to send you back."

Rodney balked. "Send us back? Why would you send us back?"

"Dr. Sanders," Colonel Carter replied. "Apparently she's seen something, a chemical that has near-identical effects on the human body as the poison Major Lorne and his team were injected with."

John's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Yeah, she told me that, but she didn't say she thought they were connected."

"She probably didn't think so herself at the time," Colonel Carter supposed. "She said she'd be able to identify it when it's brought back."

"That's good to hear," John replied. His head tilted. "But how could she have seen something like this? Is she just mistaking it for some disease she saw?"

"That's why she's a doctor and you're not, Colonel," Carter answered. "Dr. Sanders is fully capable of telling the difference between poisons and diseases, she has degrees in both."

"Oh." _Another thing she neglected to mention._

Both seemed to realize they were staring at the other and waiting for a word, so Colonel Carter told John and his group to go get cleaned up. Ronon, Teyla, Rodney, and Dr. Stalls headed off, but John paused and called up to Colonel Carter, asking if she had a moment.

She did, and John trotted up the stairs, dirt, mud, and who knew what else marking the squeaky-clean surface. Chuck looked down at the mudprints, then up at the Colonel. He grinned in approval and offered a thumbs-up. _First man in Atlantis to track mud across the floor without getting chewed out. Kudos, man._

John grinned back and slapped a quiet high five with the Canadian as he passed by. He went up with the Colonel Carter into her office.

"What did you want to talk to me about, Colonel?" Carter asked as John closed the door behind them.

"Major Lorne. How is he, ma'am?"

Colonel Carter's expression was grim. "Not good, Colonel," she said. "They've got hours. If we don't find what we need…" Her voice trailed off, and she looked off into the distance pensively. "And we've only got the one stasis chamber. We'd stave off death for one, and fail the other four."

She turned faced to John. "We don't have much time left, Colonel. To be honest with you, I don't know how much good your retrieval of the plants will do," she said. "They might be beyond saving."

"I'm not giving up on them, ma'am," John said, chin tilting up defiantly.

"I didn't say we were, Colonel," Carter replied. "I'm just saying that we could be cutting it very, very close."

"Then let's cut it," John answered.

Carter smiled briefly, nodding in approval. "Good answer. Thank you for your work, Colonel. You can go now."

John nodded and turned a quick about-face, striding out of the room. Before closing the door he just managed to catch Colonel Carter's mutter of, "Now what am I going to do with this mess?"

John grinned and went to clean up. A spit shower was necessary to eliminate the smell of jungle, and a quick change into a fresh uniform made him look like a new man.

The first place he went to was the infirmary, and just outside of there he found himself waiting with Rodney, Teyla, Ronon, Colonel Carter, and a smattering of others who knew the five men whose lives hung in the balance.

This was the part John hated the most: the waiting. But then, there was nothing else he could do.

Colonel Carter brought them all up to speed on Kathy's information. "I've talked with Dr. Sanders a little more since she first spoke with me," she said. "The very slight possibility exists that she may have seen a variant of the poison that is in Major Lorne's team's bloodstreams right now."

"How so?" John asked, turning his head to watch her.

"While she was in a particular area, everyone there died, including all of the animals and some of the doctors with her. It turned out there was some kind of chemical in their water well. They couldn't figure out what it was exactly, it was unrecognizable, and they were unable to find a cure."

"A doctor's worst nightmare," Teyla murmured softly. John agreed.

"Research into the area shows that once there are frequent meteor showers there," Colonel Carter added. "The theory is that some of the meteorites originated from Pegasus, carrying something from over here to over there, crashed into the earth, infected the area's water and killed everybody."

Rodney was about to comment, but Colonel Carter raised up a hand and stopped him. "I know, McKay, the possibilities are astronomical, but crazier things have happened."

Rodney couldn't argue with that.

"The well has since been filled up, and the whole area of land is fenced off because the chemical in the water tainted the whole area. It's easy to spot, because the plant life there is booming. The only problem is that all of it is poisonous."

"The plant life went crazy?" John looked over at Carter. "The planet our yew samples came from was all jungle… Except," he paused. "There were animals. You couldn't miss the racket, and I did spot a four-tailed squirrel."

"Why would a squirrel need _four_ tails?" Rodney asked.

"That's what I want to know," John replied.

"Animal life?" Carter repeated. "But Dr. Sanders said there weren't any animals left in the village by the time the chemical had done its work."

"Maybe the local fauna have developed an immunity to the chemical," Rodney said, rising slightly with a look of excitement. "We could go back there and catch one—"

John and Colonel Carter shook their heads simultaneously. "There's not enough time," she said, and John added, "The animals there were already wary of us. We could hear 'em, sure, but I only saw one or two actual animals. It could take days to catch one, and we don't have that kind of time."

Rodney deflated. Ronon looked up at John accusingly, and growled, "Are you giving up?"

"No, Ronon!" John said quickly.

"There simply isn't anything more we can do now," Colonel Carter explained. "All we can do now is wait and hope for the best."

And that was just what they did.

John spotted the doctor who had kindly knocked out Major Lorne earlier standing at the infirmary door. Quickly their little group gravitated towards him, eyes asking the same questions.

"What have we got?" John asked.

"We're running the water through as many tests as many tests as we can," the doctor replied. "Thankfully we collected a lot, so we can run most of the tests all at once. The plants and soil samples from the planets are all being processed right now, hopefully they'll shed a little more light on what we're dealing with here."

John looked beyond the doctor at Lorne and company, just visible behind him. "How much time do we have?"

The doctor sighed, brow creased in worry. "Hours, Colonel," he said. "I'd say six at the very most, two or three at the least."

"Can't you buy them any time?" John asked.

"That's what we did by sedating them, and putting them on life support," the doctor replied. "They can't even breathe on their own right now, Colonel. The machines are doing it for them. But life support isn't going to work for long. We need the cure _now_."

John nodded, still watching Lorne. The breathing apparatus connected into him was apparent. His chest was still rising and falling too fast, but at least his face wasn't the alarming red it had been before.

This man was dying. In a mere handful of hours, he and his men would be gone.

But John wasn't going to let that happen. Not in his city.

The doctor stayed with them a moment longer, but soon he was gone again, back to his work.

Rodney was sitting on a ledge, holding a cup of coffee in his hands that had thus far gone ignored. "I remember when it was you we were waiting out here for," he said suddenly. "That time with Elia…"

"Rodney, I thought we had all agreed that was an incident we would never bring up again," John said curtly. "More so than bug one."

"Technically, they _both_ involved bugs…" Rodney said, sounding a bit distant.

"Rodney. We are not talking about this."

"Right. Sorry."

John nodded, and was unable to restrain a grimace. The "bug incident" was probably the most intense pain he had suffered, surpassed only by the sensation of a Wraith extracting lifeforce from his chest, and the "Elia incident" was the most freaky. When you were completely distanced from your humanity, you did not want to talk about it.

Or think about it, for that matter.

John leaned against the railing behind him and reached into his pocket, pulling out his ever-present citrus. It was an orange this time, so actually edible. Rodney sent him a glare, but John ignored him. He just wasn't in the mood for toying.

Absent-mindedly he pierced through the peel and ran his thumb along the widening gap, eventually removing the entire peel. This he carefully looped around until it formed the hollow outline of an orange. He bent over and placed it on the floor beside his boot, then straightened up and slowly ate the orange piece by piece.

It wasn't that he was hungry; it just gave him something to do. He had long since counted the geometric Ancient shapes that were in view. But eventually he knew that the orange would be gone, and he would have to resort with playing with its peel to keep his mind away from the morbid possibilities.

Rodney was staring into his cup so intently John half expected the contents to froth. Ronon was alarmingly still. Teyla was silent, watching and waiting for news. Colonel Carter… she was worried, but she was leader. Naturally whatever she felt would be kept well hidden.

John continued to dally over his orange, waiting, waiting. He hated the waiting. Because anything could happen in the meantime.

* * *

><p>Sorry for the delays. Things have been going crazy fast around these parts. Also, went on a gotta-catch-up-on-my-chores spree which has carried over into today. So editing was something I haven't had much time for. Sorry.<p>

This was one of the harder chapters to do. It is not easy to do scientific stuff when you have very limited access to the Internet.

Also, unexpected "Conversion" reference. It just popped into my head as I was writing the scene, so I put it in. It seems to fit, I think.


	10. Prayers

Two and a half hours later, Kathy seemed to be the only one standing still in a lab filled with flying scientists. The only words they spoke to each other were commands for equipment, or another eye on what they were working on. There was no time for bickering now. The clock was ticking down, and everyone knew it.

Lorne, Reed, Houser, Saint, and O'Meara were running out of time. It wouldn't be long before they were gone.

"Ah!" Jeff exclaimed. His head spun around sharply and he picked her out. "Kathy, come here. I just got the results of the analysis on the water samples brought back from the different planets. Do you recognize any of the contents?"

Kathy came up, looked at the display for a moment, and skimmed through the images of the various chemicals in the water.

"Mineral, mineral," she muttered. "Animal refuse, mineral, organism, mineral, mineral, man these are rich waters… there." She stopped, staring at the screen as though mesmerized. "That's it," she said. "The same chemical, the exact same. You were right, Jeff."

Jeff examined the information derived from the analyzed chemical and nodded. "Well, here we go then."

The haste of the scientists intensified, and Kathy caught only fragments of words spoken so fast they slipped past her ears. Once she thought she heard Jon exclaim, "How can _radiation_ cure this? Are you nuts? What does chemotherapy have to do with it?"

Oh dear. This was not good. _God, please,_ Kathy begged. _Please show us the solution, please guide Jon, Jeff and Neal's hands, please help Lorne's team to hold on longer._

She stood in the middle of the room, unmoving in the midst of the flurrying activity around here, fist held against her mouth as she tried not to cry. Yes, as a doctor she had lost dozens of patients; hundreds, in fact, due to her work being in epidemics. But that never, ever made it any easer. All one could do was try to shoulder it and push on, but that didn't by any means mean that she didn't stop and shed tears.

_God, You're their Father,_ Kathy prayed. _Every father protects their children. If You take them away now… You know where they'll go. Surely You can't do that! Surely You can't!_ Her head bowed.

And so she continued, sometimes whispering prayers under her breath, sometimes silently uttering them in her thoughts. But she knew that whatever happened next was not in her hands. The truth of it was that it never was.

Kathy paced back and forth, eyes flicking over the activities of the various scientists around her, never stopping a moment as she prayed.

Her mental clock continued to tick down. Three hours left. Two. One.

As the hours changed to minutes, less than fifty, Kathy felt despair encroach. Her pacing faltered, stopped, and she stood with interlaced fingers pressed against her mouth.

_God, no. Can't you… can't you this once..._ The tears were there, she felt them just behind her eyes. _Father, please don't let the Devil take these ones._

Jon Parrish exclaimed loudly and clapped his hands together. "I've got it!" he cried. Tears fell from his eyes as he laughed triumphantly. "I've got it!"

Instantly everyone swarmed upon Parrish and his discovery, and loud laughter and back slaps ensued.

Kathy just stayed where she was, openly weeping as a brilliant smile lit up her face. _Thank You, God. Thank You!_

Parrish was excitedly explaining his discovery, and Kathy lifted her hand up to her mic.

"John," she said, unable to keep the tremors from her voice. "We've got it." She started sobbing. "We've got the cure!"

Somehow she knew that John was grinning. "Kathy, that's terrific!" he exclaimed. "When can you get it to the infirmary?"

"We're starting to synthesize it now. Someone should be heading to the infirmary in a couple of minutes. How are Major Lorne and Company?"

"They're doing fine, Kathy. Actually, they seemed to have gotten an extra boost of strength. We hadn't expected that after we had to take them off sedation."

Kathy's eyes closed again, and with a dizzy and soaring feeling she thanked her Father once again for His provision. "Good thing," she said. "The sedative would have interfered with the working of the antidote."

"They're coming to right now. Guess I'll tell 'em the news. I'd better go."

Kathy nodded. Then she flung her arms around Jon as both of them wept. They weren't the only ones in the lab with wet faces.

**…**

Lorne's team made it out by a hairsbreadth, and finally everyone was able to breath. John was still puzzled by the sudden burst of strength the five had had at the very end. It didn't make any sense.

Lorne couldn't figure it out either. "It came out of nowhere, sir," he confessed. "Whatever it was, that strength wasn't my own." When he found out it wasn't from any drug they had given him, Lorne looked even more confused.

"I've had this happen in other close shaves wi' death," Sgt. O'Meara remarked. "There are more times that I should've died and didn't than I can count. And then there are the times when I _know_ it wasn't physically possible for me _not_ to die. Yet I'm still here." He shrugged. "There's a reason I wear a cross wi' my dogtags."

John glanced over at him doubtfully. Sure, he'd grown up a Catholic boy, but he wasn't sure that he had ever really believed any of it. O'Meara certainly did, but those were his own beliefs.

Kathy entered into infirmary, walking arm-in-arm with Dr. Keller, with whom she was holding an obviously happy conversation. It only took a glance to tell that those two were the best of friends.

Kathy's head turned and she called out a cheery hello to John and his companions, and now that she was facing him John could see how tired she was.

Kathy and Dr. Keller parted, and Kathy walked over to them. "Hello, boys," she greeted them.

"Hey, Doc." Lt. Houser lifted a hand in greeting, then let it thud down heavily.

"How you guys doing?" Kathy asked them.

Sgt. O'Meara cocked an eyebrow. "Shouldn't you know that already?"

Kathy rolled her eyes. "Yes," she answered. "I've already read your health reports, but I am asking for a self-assessment from you five, how you feel _personally_."

"We're fine, ma'am," Lorne said.

"See, what did I tell you, Jennifer!" Kathy exclaimed. "Military folks are just so predictable! Sheesh, you could be missing a leg and standing with half your entrails hanging out and you'd _still_ say you were fine."

Lorne and his men cracked guilty smiles. Lt. Saint chuckled.

"Well, we're a little achy, ma'am, if that's what ye want to hear," Sgt. O'Meara said, his eyes sparkling with mischief. That was an encouraging sign to see. John still hadn't figured out how Lorne had gotten an Irishman on his team. Frankly, he thought it was a little unfair.

Kathy nodded encouragingly. "That's more like it," she said. "Hey, if any of you guys want to talk, I'm available. Well, not like _that_, but… nevermind. Anyway, you can talk with me whenever, and I don't put any of it in a report. So there is a bonus."

Lorne looked at Kathy curiously. "I thought you were a medical doctor, not a shrink," he said.

Kathy shrugged. "I aced all my psychology classes in high school. Actually, it was pretty much the only class I aced."

Lt. Houser cocked his head. "Then why aren't you a _shrink_?"

"Well, people get really uncomfortable around psychiatrists and the like. Besides, with this job, I impale people and get paid for it."

John lifted an eyebrow and smirked. "Ah, so now your true motives come into the light."

Kathy grinned over at him deliciously. "Don't tell a soul."

"Or… what? I'll be the next one you impale?"

"Fatally." Kathy was unable to restrain a giggle.

The aimless conversation couldn't be pursued since it was interrupted by Colonel Carter's arrival.

"I see you're doing well," she said, looking proudly over her men.

"We're doing fine, ma'am," Lorne replied. "Though the docs don't quite agree."

Carter chuckled. "They never do, do they."

"I don't know," John said. He jerked a thumb over at Kathy. "This one was just talking about impaling people." He raised his eyebrows suggestively. "And getting _paid_ for it."

"John!" Kathy exclaimed, punching him in the arm. "You promised you wouldn't tell! Now I have to kill you all!"

Sgt. O'Meara grinned and leaned over toward Captain Reed. "I _like_ this doctor," he whispered, looking at Kathy with high approval.

Colonel Carter's brow furrowed, and a slightly puzzled smile was on her countenance. "I get the feeling I just walked into the middle of something."

"Yes ma'am," John affirmed. Kathy giggled again, and John was struck by how pretty she looked when her eyes crinkled up like that.

Dr. Keller joined them. John had been wondering when she would. "Well, I'm just glad this worked," she said. "It really was a close one this time."

"You're not the only one," Kathy told her. "Jon is still unexpectedly bursting into tears whenever he thinks about it, and it's been six days now." Seeing John's disgruntled expression, she explained, "Not you, John, the other Jon. Jon Parrish."

John continued to look at her blankly. Kathy sighed. "The dude who's obsessed with flowers?"

Recognition lit up John's face. "Oh! That guy." His brow furrowed. "His name is John?"

"Yep. And that's without an H, by the way."

John stared at her. "How did you know—"

"It's the way you think it. Now how did we get on this detour?"

"I'm not entirely sure, and I don't think it really matters," Colonel Carter decided. "What matters now is that we still have our men. And all in one piece, too."

"And for that we are very grateful, ma'am," Lorne replied.

"But we still don't know who did this," John pointed out grimly. "They could do it again, and pick an even larger bullet to dodge."

Carter nodded in agreement, her expression grave. Everyone looked somber. "It's a big galaxy," Carter said. "Finding them won't be easy."

"Why not let them think our friends here are dead?" Kathy suggested. "That way they might use the same poison and methods again, and we can catch them when they make their next move."

Lorne didn't look like he liked the idea of sitting around and being dead, but Colonel Carter did.

"That's a good idea, Dr. Sanders," she said. "It just might work."

Kathy looked over at her. "Call me Kathy," she said, giving a slight smile. "Everybody does."

Colonel Carter nodded, and John could see that she hadn't missed the offer of friendship. Strange, considering just a week ago Kathy had hated the woman.

"Well, Major," Carter said to Lorne. "It seems that you and your team are going to have a lot of free time on your hands. From now on you won't be going offworld, you won't be mentioned in radio communications, and if any visitors from offworld are here you and your men are to remain out of sight."

Lorne sighed, resigned. "Yes, Colonel. Anything else, ma'am?"

"Yes," Colonel Carter replied. "This is a rare opportunity for you and your men to relax. Take advantage of it."

"Hey, no better time to enjoy life than when ye're dead, eh, sir?" O'Meara joked.

Colonel Carter turned to John. "Our scheduled call to Earth is in ten minutes," she said. "I expect you there, Colonel."

"Bang on the dot, ma'am," John replied.

"Dr. Sanders—sorry, Kathy?"

"Yeah?"

"Meet me in my office after the exchange with Earth."

Kathy nodded. "I'll be there."

Colonel Carter nodded and walked away. Another doctor came up to Dr. Keller, asking her about something or another, and so she left too.

John turned to Kathy. "So," he asked, "how do you like being in on the action?"

"Not a bit," Kathy replied. "But I might as well get used to it."

John couldn't help a smirk. "Well, maybe it would help if you didn't keep coming up with these brilliant ideas."

Kathy gave him an equally saucy smirk in return. "That's why they're called brilliant, John. They shine."

"Then put it under a bushel."

Kathy shook her head with an amused snort and smacked John upside the head. "_Amaideach_."

Sgt. O'Meara started and laughed. "I didn't know you spoke Gaelic!"

"I'm half Irish, of course I speak Gaelic," Kathy replied.

"Ah!" O'Meara considered Kathy's appearance with a frown. "So, ye're a black-haired Irish, then?"

"Red, actually," Kathy confessed. She tugged at a few locks. "This is dyed."

O'Meara _tsk_ed disapprovingly. "For shame."

"I've been meaning to set it back, I just haven't had the time. My mom thinks the black suits me better, since my hair wasn't so much red as it was _orange_. Very orange."

"Oh, but that's just so attractive in Irish women." O'Meara grinned cheekily.

Kathy looked over at Major Lorne. "He's a shameless flirt, isn't he," she said.

Major Lorne nodded. "Oh yeah."

"I figured."

O'Meara snickered.

Lorne shook his head. "I just can't get over where that burst of strength came from," he admitted, returning to the subject he and John had been on at the beginning. "I know I didn't have anything left in my tank, and you said you didn't give us any drugs…"

"Just call it a miracle, and leave it at that," O'Meara suggested.

"Amen, brother," Kathy said, slapping a high-five. "And you know who comes up with those."

O'Meara nodded, smiling broadly. "Oh, ye bet I do."

Lorne shook his head with an amused smile, and John knew he shared his doubt.

"I know where the strength came from," Kathy said suddenly.

They all turned to look over at her. "You do?" Lorne asked before John did.

Kathy nodded. "Yeah," she said. "I was praying for you."

Everyone blinked. Kathy's wristwatch beeped, and she looked down quickly. "Oh, gotta be somewhere. See you guys later."

She turned and walked off. The men watched her go, wearing matching expressions of puzzlement.

"She didn't…" John started.

"Did she?" Lorne wondered.

"I mean," John stammered. "She couldn't have…"

Sgt. O'Meara smiled, leaning back against his pillow and playing with the simple cross attached to the chain looped around his neck. "Oh, I don't think she did anything," he said. "God was just waiting for someone to ask."

John glanced over at O'Meara and wondered briefly, for the first he had in a long time, if there was some credibility to the faith called Christianity after all.

Nah. Couldn't be.

Could it?

* * *

><p>Well, I'm sure you've noticed now that the chapters are titled! I've been meaning to do this for a while, but coming up with titles for something that wasn't titled to begin with is a lot harder than one would think.<p>

Yes, there is a strong Christian perspective in this story. But that doesn't mean only Christians can read it. This is written for everyone to enjoy, not just folks within a certain clique. I hope that's clear.

Sorry that this one is so late. And unfortunately, this will be the last chapter you get from me for a long while. April is Script Writing Frenzy, which is basically NaNoWriMo for films. I haven't done it before, so it's something new to try. The goal is to reach 100 pages of script, so it should be pretty fun. And if April turns out to be as busy as I'm thinking (and hoping, honestly) as I think it'll be, it will certainly be a challenge. Well, that's the best bit, ain't it?

Until we meet again, then.

~Ardna


	11. Afterwords and Letters

John found Kathy in the mess hall, sprawled over a table in a patch of sunshine. Poor girl. An Arizonan, stranded in a city encompassed by a frozen ocean. Any sunshiner's worst nightmare.

The fact that she had conked out in here rather than in her quarters testified to the exhaustion she had fallen victim to. This really wasn't something she was used to, John supposed.

Her shoulders rose and fell slowly, so John knew she was asleep, or meditating. He rather doubted the latter, cause she wasn't quite the type, and besides, who meditated with their face on top of a table?

He watched her a moment. Her nose could just be seen poking out from underneath her dark mane, pointed to the sun. John found himself missing her carroty locks. Seeing this woman here, so different from the girl he had known—and with a black-topped head, what's more—just didn't feel right. It didn't look like her.

And besides, she'd look prettier with orange hair.

Surely this couldn't be Kathy. Not the Kathy he had known. She was so strange, so mysterious… and so alluring. John found himself drawn closer to her unique persona with each passing moment.

He sat down in a chair on the other side of the table, careful not to make any noise. The funny time of day it was, there wasn't anyone else in the mess hall. Just him and Kathy.

John folded his arms on the table and leaned down, using the appendages as a prop for his chin. He gazed at the thinly veiled face before him, peaceful in its state of slumber. Kathy's long lashes rested gently against her cheeks, and John's sharp eyes could pick up the hints of red that colored them.

She was beautiful, John realized, and he was struck by the thought. Somehow, somewhere long ago, the girl across the street had grown up. Crazy Kathy Sanders had become a woman, and it wasn't until now that John had fully realized it.

And a striking one, at that.

John swallowed, stunned and somewhat alarmed by the trail his thoughts were following, and purposefully directed his eyes away from Kathy. They landed on the window and he studied the colored panels thoughtfully. From there he traced seams in the walls and up the ceiling, naming the different colors and hues that were about them as his mind wandered.

It wasn't until the sun had moved away and Kathy spoke that he realized how long it had been.

"How long you been here?" Kathy asked, not lifting nor turning her head from where it lay.

"Hm?" John rotated his head lazily to look over at where she was. "Oh, dunno. You were asleep when I came in."

"Were you asleep?" It was funny, watching her hair move as she talked.

"Nah," John said. "Just thinking."

"Drifting, more like," Kathy chuckled, her shoulders lifted by the action. She finally lifted her head, brushing the hair out of her face as she cracked a yawn. "So what were you thinking about?" she asked. Her eyes were a startlingly pale blue. John had forgotten.

John shrugged. "This and that." Actually, he couldn't really remember. Perhaps he really had just been 'drifting', as Kathy said. It was kind of nice to be able to do that now and then.

"John?"

"Yeah?" John's eyes moved quickly, affixing themselves on Kathy's curious face.

"Do you trust me?" She was watching him carefully, gauging his reaction.

He looked at her for a moment. "I don't know," he said honestly. "I think so. Maybe."

Kathy nodded slowly. "Okay."

Off into silence they went. Then Kathy's brow furrowed and she asked, "What day is it?"

"Um…" John's eyes rolled upward. "Friday."

Kathy stared at him. "No way. It so isn't Friday."

John nodded. "It is. Been just over a week since Lorne's team came in with that paranoia poison. That was Thursday, last week."

Kathy shook her head. "It feels like I've been holding my breath, and once I start breathing again I find out I've been in a coma for three years."

John chuckled. "Not quite how I'd word it, but yeah, it's something like that."

Kathy looked over at him curiously. "How do you get used to it?"

"Well, you start working on your inner clock's accuracy a little more, for one…"

Kathy laughed softly. "Yeah, I guess that would be a first on the list of things to do." She lifted her arm and peered at the time her wristwatch dictated. "Wow, I've been here for a while," she said. "Four p.m., I've been out for a couple of hours." So saying, she cracked a yawn. "Though I wouldn't mind extending my nap. Still, it's about time this show got back on the air." She stood up.

John rose up to his feet as well. "That goes for both of us."

"You don't get much of a break, do you?" Kathy asked, looking over at him.

John shrugged. "Not really."

They started walking, but then John paused at the end of the table he had just been sitting at. "Kathy?"

She stopped and turned to look at him, healthily tanned face smiling and open. "Yeah?"

John's lips parted slightly, but then he closed them again. Should he ask her about what she had said earlier, back in the infirmary? Was it his place?

No. Religion had never been his thing, and it never would be.

"Nothing," John said. Kathy's eyes stayed on his face a moment longer, doubt flickering across her eyes, but then she nodded slowly and continued on her way.

John followed a few steps behind, trying to ignore the nagging feeling that he shouldn't have kept his silence.

**…**

Saying a last and somewhat awkward goodbye to John, Kathy headed to her quarters, feeling a need for some quiet. Besides, it was her day off. Unzipping her jacket a little as she entered the more comfortably warm set of rooms—environmentals were such useful things—she flicked on her light and plopped down on her cot. Sliding off her shoes, she fell backwards, head bouncing on her pillow.

She stared up at the ceiling for a while, mind turning over the many things that had happened.

"Well, Kathy, I guess it's official," she said aloud to the empty room, "Your life has now been turned upside-down." She shook her head slightly. "Or right side up. Sometimes I can't even tell."

Her cheeks expanded, filling with air, and then she blew it out again. "Well, now what do I do?" she wondered, eyes searching for some kind of task.

Her eyes paused on the familiar face of Master Frederick, her beloved old bear. She stood up and went over to the dresser upon which he sat, careful not to move too fast on the slick surface of the floor in her socks.

Smiling at the dear old teddy bear fondly, Kathy gently stroked the top of its luxuriously soft head. "I'm scooting you out of the way for the moment, okay, Master Frederick?" she said, talking to the old toy purely out of habit. Gently she lifted the near-antique bear and took the white box that he had been propped up against. Carefully she set the bear back in his place, smiled at his kind black button eyes, and went back over to her bed.

Slowly she sat down on the cot, crossing her legs and setting the box before her. Taking off the lid, she looked in and beheld the various bits and pieces of memorabilia sorted neatly. Setting the lid aside, she reached in and took out the large stack of letters that the box contained, tucked into one of its corners.

The letters were sorted by colored ribbons: cobalt blue for Alex, neon green for Jay and his wife Maggie, red and white for her parents, orange for her Irish relatives, white-and-blue for her Russian-Jew relatives, and deep green for Seth.

It was Seth's slim collection that she went for first. Carefully sliding the ribbon off the stack of envelopes, she picked up the oldest of the letters, dated February 4th 1999. She removed the paper from its envelope, unfolding it as she read.

_Dr. Sanders,_

_You have not met me personally, ma'am. In fact, you haven't heard of me at all. I heard of you by name and actions from my friend and superior officer, Sgt. Adrian Marks. You saved his life, ma'am, from what he and others tell me. For that I am most grateful. Sgt. Marks is one heck of a soldier, and someone the Corps. is proud to have. I'm sure you've already received an official letter thanking you and whatnot, but I felt compelled to write you and thank you personally._

_I am told you won't be coming back overseas, and I think it's a shame. We could use more doctors like you over here, dozens more. It's not every civilian doctor who will put themselves at risk to save a Marine, sad to tell. But I suppose I can understand your choice to stay home a little._

_I hear that you live in the Phoenix, Arizona area. I'll be passing through there around the time you get this letter. If you like, Doctor, you can stop in at the Marine Corps. Station we have there and we can talk. I'd like to meet the doctor who saved my former CO's life._

_Regards,_

_Lt. Seth Jacobi, United States Marine Corps._

Kathy smiled as she remembered the surprised expression that had been on Seth's face when they had first met. Obviously his CO had neglected to tell him that the doctor who had saved his life was _hot_. Really hot, if Seth's recounts of the meeting were to be believed.

Goodness, it had been nearly a full ten years since that day, February 29th. Seth had said that it was only natural that they had met on a leap year, she wouldn't have settled for a date anything less than extraordinary.

Kathy held the letter in her hands a moment longer, but she wasn't looking at the words anymore, she was thinking of the time she had first received the letter. Reminders of her time overseas were the last thing she had even wanted to hear whispers of at the time, and then some man she'd never heard of wrote to her because of them!

Her face had drained entirely of blood, and her hands shook so uncontrollably Alex was forced to read it out loud for her. He seemed pleased with it, saying something along the lines of "there is good to be found in losses", but Kathy still couldn't find it in herself to believe that statement.

She had forced herself to focus on other things, working extra shifts at once of the local hospitals, but the request for a meeting continued to gnaw away at her consciousness night and day until finally on February 29th 1999 she marched into the Marine Corps. Station and asked to speak with Lt. Seth Jacobi.

Of course, he was the man who had opened the door for her coming in.

Chuckling, Kathy folded the letter back up and placed it back inside its envelope, setting it down on the bed. Then she picked up the next one, dated about two months later.

Kathy remembered the setting for this one. Seth had taken her to a local bistro, out in open surrounded by lots of people (she had noted that his eyes were constantly tracking movement), and there they had talked. Since he already knew that she had been overseas, there wasn't any point in her lying, but at one point she had firmly stated that she would rather not talk about it.

Seth had looked disappointed, but he quickly schooled his face into a neutral expression and smoothly directed the conversation elsewhere. Afterwards talk came easy and comfortable, and Kathy found herself liking this man. He would become a nice acquaintance, she had thought.

At the end of the afternoon, Kathy had expressed a mild interest in staying in contact. Seth had made a noncommittal sound in response to that, and Kathy had taken it as a no. So her surprise was imaginable when two months later she got a letter from him.

_Dr. Sanders, _(it opened)

_To be honest, ma'am, it feels a little strange to be writing you again, especially since I no longer have any logical reason to. I must confess, Doctor, that something about you has caught my eye, and it wasn't just your looks. Actually, I don't know what it was._

_With your permission, Doctor, I would like a chance to find out. Would it be possible or agreeable to start up a correspondence? I'm stationed overseas at this time, so talking face-to-face is sort of impossible. I'm sure you understand how that is._

_Regards,_

_Lt. Seth Jacobi, United States Marine Corps._

"Oh Seth, you dear," Kathy whispered, smiling fondly at the script before her. "Neither of us knew what we were starting, did we?"

She set this letter back down, underneath the first one, and picked up the next one. It was the beginning of their correspondence, which went on for several letters more, randomly dated.

…_well, ma'am, since we're doing this, I suppose you'll want to know a little more about me. I'm from Washington State, east of the mountains, and live with my parents on 12 acres of land, 8 of it dominated by apple trees. We have three horses and a fair army of dogs, all big. Lapdogs wouldn't survive in our home. The cats all live out in the barn, with the cows and horses. We have chickens as well. Yep, regular ole farmboy here. Really, I couldn't love any lifestyle more…_

…_got flipped off by some American teenager with a group of tourists today. Guess he has something against people who bleed and die for the sake of his own safety…_

…_there are so many feral cats out here, I'm afraid that one day I'll have to walk on them to get from one place to another. The poor things are barely more than bones with skin and fur stretched over. I sometimes find myself worrying that one day I'll wake up and find out they've eaten me…_

…_my day was totally made today. This little boy, I don't how old exactly, four or five? Maybe six. Anyway, he came up to me, slapping his heels together, and saluted. His face was so earnest and dead serious, I could only give him an equally respectful salute in return. I've never seen a kid smile wider…_

And so it went on. Then there was a letter that made her stop, expression sad.

_Kathy,_

_My mood isn't a good one today. And no surprise either. Sgt. Marks was killed today. I watched the bullet go through his head._

_I guess your saving him at the beginning of the year proved to be in vain, then. No matter what you do, they're just going to die later. If that's the truth of it, then why do people like you bother?_

_Hell. The man had four kids, three girls and a boy. He never talked about anyone more than his wife._

_He died on New Year's Day. How wrong is that? The first thing I write this year is to be about my killed CO._

_I'm delivering the news personally to his family. They know me, so I asked if I could be the one to do it. I just don't know if I'll be able to bear the looks one those kids' faces._

_Seth J._

Kathy sighed. "Oh, Seth," she whispered. The letters had been few then, all of them with a hollow feel. Sgt. Marks had meant a lot to Seth; he was a second father to him. Then next year war broke out, and Seth didn't have Sgt. Marks with him. It was unbelievably depressing.

The letters had stopped altogether in July of 2000. She had almost forgotten Seth Jacobi altogether when he had written her again, in September of 2001.

_Kathy,_

_So here we are at war. My division leaves for Afghanistan tomorrow morning. It's a little hard to believe this is even happening. My mind keeps replaying the recordings of the World Trade Center. Has it really been a week since that?_

_There's never been a time in history when a nation's military isn't active, but to be outright at war is a different thing. Will you be over there, doing whatever it is that doctors like you do? It's gonna be a lot harder to keep people alive this time around, and it would be reassuring to know that someone like you is over there._

_To be honest, I can't wait to throw some lead into those Arabs. What they've just done to us, after all the help we've freely given them, is unacceptable and I for one don't intend to let them get away with it!_

_I wonder if I'll die in this war. Who knows? I hope I don't. My parents don't have many people in their lives other than me._

_Regards,_

_Lt. Seth Jacobi_

Kathy remembered that when she had first read this letter it had sent shivers up and down her spine, the hatred in it was so tangible. It had kindled her anger with the peoples of the Middle East, even though she knew that not all of them were like the monsters who had killed those thousands of people on September 11th.

At that time, however, she had made no effort to control her rage. She had _wanted_ to be angry. She hated them, the Afghanis, the Iraqis, all the other Arab peoples, and hated them wholly. Now that hatred was something she was a little ashamed of, but still, every time she thought of that day her it flashed once more.

But her hatred was not directed at the Arabs. It was directed at Satan, at the evils of Hell that drove so many to commit all the horrible deeds spread throughout history. It had taken a while, years in fact, but eventually Kathy had learned that she was to hate the evil _in_ people, not the people themselves.

That was a lesson Seth still refused to learn. The lands of the Middle East had taken much from him: friends, comrades, civilians… and he would not let go of his hatred of the people. He was justified for the cause of his hatred, Kathy was sure, but that didn't make it _right_. Wasn't it hate that caused 9\11 in the first place?

Sighing, Kathy set the letter down and skipped over the next few, not wishing to dwell on such dark thoughts of war any longer. She was already entangled in one right now.

The letter she stopped at was written more than a full year later, in November. Seth had been home for a couple of months so he could be with his family for Thanksgiving and Christmas.

Also, so he could follow her around Phoenix and Flagstaff and ask her out God knew how many times in God knew how many ways. The letter in Kathy's hand showed the poor man's exasperation.

_Kathy,_

_Dangit, woman, is there something wrong with my face? Why are you so determined not to date me? Every time I ask you, you give a different reason. Actually, you don't give a reason at all! You say it's not because I'm a Marine, you say it's not because I'm from Washington and you're from Arizona, you say it's not because I'm almost always overseas, you say it's not because I know how to kill people in more ways than you know how to fix them…_

_So what in tarnation is it? You say you like me, so WHY WON'T YOU LET ME ASK YOU OUT!_

_You're driving me crazy, Kathy Sanders!_

_Irritable regards (can you guess why?),_

_Seth J._

Kathy giggled. Poor Seth. He _had_ been very frustrated. He was always so easily ruffled. Well, by her, anyway. Nobody else seemed capable of fazing him, except for his parents.

Kathy fell back against her pillow for a second time, looking up at the ceiling with a smile curving her lips upward. The letter clasped between both of her hands made her wish again that Seth could be here with her right now. It was lonely, being here without him, even though hundreds of people accompanied her.

She really, really missed him. Kathy looked over and gazed at the calendar on her wall. Though she could easily have it on her computer, Kathy preferred the traditional paper-on-the-wall method. She knew that, a few pages of the calendar later, was written in bold and excited handwriting: _HOME!_

She really couldn't wait for the day to come. So much did she miss her first home, her family and her friends and most of all Seth. There was no question, the two of them were in love. Perhaps, if she hadn't come to Atlantis, they would be married by now. She'd never know, but sometimes she couldn't help but wonder.

Fingers stroking the paper surface of Seth's letter, Kathy sighed and closed her eyes, succumbing to a bout of homesickness.

* * *

><p>Yay, I'm back! Script Frenzy kinda flopped (I think my strength is more straight writing than screenplays), but that was also largely due to the fact that my writing bug basically died through most of April. It was not a lot of fun. :(<p>

But I am here! And, as you can see, writing again! Got a short line of chapters waiting for me to go through and edit, and a slurry of ideas bouncing around! Very good for the creative mind. Only problem is that most of them are for events that are at least a dozen chapters away. Hm, time travel? ;)

I should say something about this actual chapter. Cos I like doing that. Writing Seth's letters… that was so different for me. I've never done anything like that, and I also wanted to stay as far away from the land of love letters as possible. Because the letters in this chapter are not love letters. Well, maybe the last one, but I don't really think so. The letters were also a way to introduce y'all to Seth. Thoughts?

The whole segment about 9/11 was really hard to write. Really hard. For the most part, they are my own personal thoughts, and it was difficult to write them down and put them together in a way that makes sense to the people who don't live in my own head. Editing, this is what I struggled with the most.

There ought to be another update by next Wednesday. If no, poke me with a stick or something.

Also, does anyone read these? I'm just wondering if I should even bother with them. Not much point in writing something nobody's going to read, I guess.


	12. Elsewhere

**A note from the author:** Sorry to be interrupting, guys, but this is important.

Please no profanity in the reviews. Be it in praise or criticism, this is not the place for it. Everyone is fully capable of expressing their thoughts without using profanity. I have younger siblings, and the last thing I want to happen is them walking past and seeing cusswords on the computer screen.

This is very important to me. So please, speak with consideration. Otherwise, feel free. I don't like having to put this up here, but after a few times it's become necessary. I want this to be a safe environment, y'know? Anyway, go on and enjoy the chapter. Next one should be rolling in next Wednesday.

**.**

**.**

**.**

* * *

><p>Jay Sanders closed the front door and quickly slid off his shoes.<p>

"I'm home!" he called to the people who weren't in view.

A high yell came from above his head, muffled by the layer between its speaker and receiver. "Hi, Daddy!"

"Hi, Zach! Does Daddy get a big hug for coming home?" Jay yelled back.

There was a pause. "Maybe..." Jay couldn't quite hear it, but he knew his mischief-maker of a son was giggling upstairs. "If you brought… peanut butter!"

"But we already have peanut butter, little man!" Jay shouted.

"Well, did you bring more?"

"I am afraid not."

"Then no hug!"

"Oh, darn!"

This time he could hear Zach's giggles. The boy must have been slowly making his way downstairs. Jay caught him peeking around the corner, eyes a-sparkle over a wide grin. Jay laughed and positioned himself like a football player.

"C'mere," he said, and Zach catapulted himself from the stairs and crashed into his father's stomach.

"_Oof!_ That's quite an impact you've got there, Mr. Rocket!" Jay told Zach.

His son giggled and squeezed tighter. Jay wheezed, staggering from side to side. "Oh my! So—so strong! How can I bear it?"

"Race you to the porch!" Zach shouted and zinged away.

Jay laughed and chased after. Though he easily could have overtaken his son, the wily child had plotted the course that would take them both across Mom's path. While Zach would charge on, Jay would be obliged to stop and give his wife a kiss.

"He's a clever one, that rascal of ours," Jay remarked as their lips parted.

Maggie's eyes sparkled with the same mischief as Zach's. "I can't imagine where he gets it from."

"It _is_ a mystery." Jay leaned back some and beheld the vision of his wife. A paint-splotched skirt just barely covered her knees while a yellow sleeveless shirt left her well-tanned arms bare, and most of her rebelliously wispy hair was caught up in a bun. A laptop had been placed on the coffee table in front of her, and a half-peeled banana was in her hand.

She was the most beautiful woman Jay had ever seen.

"Well," said Jay. He looked at her another moment. "What are you doing, Most Beautiful And Sexy Woman In The World?"

Maggie chuckled and pointed her banana at him. "That was capitalized."

"Great fluffy tribbles! How do you _do_ that?"

"I am woman, and that is enough for you to know, Mr. Sanders."

"Oh, I don't think so," Jay said, leaning in to kiss her again. He tugged on the collar of the aged Golden Retriever laying on the couch next to Maggie. "Okay, Rufo, go play with Zach."

Rufo tipped off the side of the couch and shambled away, nosing the door open to go outside to the porch. Jay sat down next to Maggie and curled himself around her, pulling her close. He closed his eyes, breathing in her scent, and then asked, "As I was wondering: what're you doing?"

"Looking over travel plans," Maggie replied, gesturing toward the laptop. "The conference is coming up in a few weeks." She paused a moment and added in a quieter voice, "My last conference."

Jay kissed the top of her head.

"I can hardly believe I'm really stepping out of it," Maggie said, seeming not to respond to Jay's show of affection. "After eight years, I just… _assumed_. You know?"

"I'm your husband, doll. Of course I know." Jay smiled lightly.

Maggie smiled briefly, but it was only a hint of her usual cheerfulness. "It's change," she said. "I've gotten so used to encouraging it in others… I guess I've grown unaccustomed to going through it myself. Who'd have thought that would happen."

"It's all for the best, though," Jay said. "You'll be home a lot more. That's good."

"And you know that just as well as I do," Maggie replied. "We've both seen the effects of an absent parent… or an abusive one." She touched his arm comfortingly as a muscle in his jaw jumped. "I know it still hurts you, Jay—I only meant to say we both know the terrible effects it can have. Personally."

They nodded, and both could see the cracks of wounded hearts in each other's eyes. The two people, joined by marriage, were far from whole. But through God they had found healing, and that healing had flowed through them and into their son, Zach. It was really for him that this change was coming.

"I'll like having you home more often, Maggie," Jay said truthfully. "This house doesn't feel like a home whenever you're not here."

"What, because you have to survive on take-out while I'm gone?" Maggie's eyes twinkled with some of her customary humor.

"_No,_" Jay protested, his show of indignation hampered by his unrestrained giggle. "We miss you. _I_ miss you." He leaned forward and kissed her.

Their lips parted and Maggie gazed adoringly into Jay's eyes. "I'm going to love being a stay-at-home mother," she said, and the happiness in her voice left no doubt.

Jay smiled back at her and nodded in agreement. "Yeah. And then we can really start on making our family. We've been waiting too long."

"Yeah," Maggie nodded in agreement. "It's been long since time Zach had brothers and sisters."

They sat together in silence, Jay's arms encircling Maggie's waist. Maggie leaned back and relaxed against him, sighing in contentment. Change was coming, and of course that wouldn't be easy, but she felt safe knowing that her husband would be there with her through it.

The quiet was peaceful, and neither husband nor wife felt inclined to break it. They listened, to each other's soft breathing and the quiet of the house. Outside they could hear Zach running around, whooping and yelling as he played with Rufo and the ever-active Skywalker.

The Sanders' third dog, a gargantuan brown who-knew-what named Ludo, came lumbering into the living room. The big dog sank down right in front of the couch as though guarding it.

"Hey, Ludo," Jay greeted him quietly, scratching him in his favorite spot at the root of his ears. Ludo panted happily.

"I wonder what Kathy is doing right now," Maggie said suddenly.

"Kathy?" Jay's mind was jerked into alertness at the mention of his sister. "Well, who knows? We aren't allowed to know what she does." His lips turned down unhappily.

"I hope she's safe." Maggie's voice was solemn, and Jay's expression matched her tone.

"Yeah," he said. "I hope so, too." His jaw was tight for a moment until he released it to speak. "I'm afraid, sometimes. That the next time I see her she'll be in a coffin. Or just a little box with pieces of her in it."

"That's not going to happen, Jay."

"Don't say that just to say it, Mags. You know just as well as I do that it can happen. After all, she's a doctor. She's supposed to help others survive. When the doctors are hurt, who helps them?"

"Jay. Don't worry." Maggie leaned away from him so she could turn and look into his eyes. "God is protecting her."

"Yeah, but sometimes it seems like God's plan is to let them die."

"Sometimes. But how does that Bible verse go? 'To live is Christ and to die is gain.' Either way she's safe, Jay."

Jay pulled Maggie closer, trying to turn his arms into a protective cocoon. "I still worry."

"I know, honey. You're her brother: more than anything you want your sister to be safe."

"I hope she's okay, wherever she is," Jay whispered.

They drifted into silence again, prayerfully holding Kathy in mind. The silence was broken only when Zach decided to bring his playtime into the living room. Jay's dark cloud seemed to be swept away by his son's presence, and he laughed loudly and sprung from the couch to tackle Zach to the floor, where he mercilessly subjected him to an attack of tickles.

Maggie smiled, and at her son's pleading sent her tickling fingers for her husband's ribs.

* * *

><p>And here are the normal author's notes! :) Well, in case the surname had not already indicated, these three are some of Kathy's relatives. Jay has been mentioned before, as the younger of Kathy's two adopted brothers. Funnily enough, he's the only one of the three of them who is married.<p>

I had meant to introduce members of the Sanders family later on, but Jay and Maggie decided they were going to come in sooner. I know it's not some big dramatic chapter, but I felt the best way to introduce you to them was to show them where they are most comfortable—in their home. It's really simple, and also relatively short, considering how long chapters tend to be in this story. Adding to it didn't feel right.

Oh, and since it wasn't mentioned in the chapter itself, Skywalker is a most-parts Irish Setter, which are very high energy dogs. Hence the name Skywalker.


	13. New Patterns

Days drifted by, slow and agonizingly uneventful. Everyone was distracted, the dominant thought in their heads being _we don't know who did this._ And they didn't. Whoever had almost killed Major Lorne's team hadn't made another move, and thorough sifting through whatever information they had gathered yielded nothing.

Dr. Neal, John secretly thought, was impressed with the hostiles. Not because they were evil and that they had hidden themselves so well, but with what they had accomplished by mutating the Pegasus yew almost beyond recognition.

Dr. Parrish didn't share Dr. Neal's fascination. He thought that the massive and unnatural alteration to the plant was appalling. The man loved nature just the way it was, and didn't approve of people tampering with it in unhealthy ways. Especially for the purpose of killing people.

Kathy, when she and John met up for lunch sometime later, noted that the hostiles must have intended for Lorne's team to kill additional Lanteans. "They could have killed them with straight yew poison," she pointed out. "With the added paranoia factor, they could have only wanted them to take out more of us before they went down."

The more John thought about what these guys had done to his people, the more he wanted to put a bullet through each of their hearts. As it was, he had to settle for the shooting range, and so far he had found at least two members of Lorne's team down there at any given time.

This whole ordeal was frustrating for them most of all. Thanks to Kathy's idea, they were essentially dead, unable to do anything to help. John never failed to notice their taut expressions whenever they had to duck out of sight of a visiting offworlder.

John's frustration and anger continued to mount, and he knew the emotions were beginning to cloud his mind. Anger at an unseen enemy, anger that couldn't be spent, was dangerous for himself and the people he had to protect. He gave Colonel Carter a heads-up that he was borrowing one of the Jumpers and went to clear his head.

When he entered the bay, he noticed one of the Jumpers was already gone. Apparently Lorne had the same idea.

**…**

Kathy found Jon and Neal in one of the recreational areas. Jon was sitting at a table, carefully constructing a building of cards while Neal stood by his shoulder, watching his activity intently.

Now who would have thought _that_ would be something seen in this life? Jon Parrish and Isaac Neal, spending recreational time together?

_Somebody pinch me,_ Kathy thought.

Neal craned his neck forward a little to peer down at Jon's project, then said, "You're doing it wrong."

Jon glared up at him. "I am doing it perfectly right!" he snapped.

"No, this isn't how you do it. You're doing it wrong."

"Boys, boys," Kathy said, waving her hands placatingly. "Cockfighting later. Jon's just trying it a different way, Neal. Experimentation is what we're all about, remember?"

Neal snorted. "He's going to fail."

Jon's glare intensified. "Don't make me impale you with these," he said warningly.

"Uh, Jon? Leave the impaling to the professionals, please," Kathy said. "And I don't think poker cards work very well with the stabbing thing."

Jon scowled and turned back to his structure. Neal picked up a Rubik's Cube that Kathy hadn't noticed before. It was made with a unique touch that Neal must have added himself—six cubes in each row rather than three.

"Custom design?" Kathy asked, nodding to the cube. Neal nodded, focusing his attention on it and seemingly paying no mind to what Jon was doing. Kathy caught him glancing over every few seconds, though.

Could it be… that Jon and Neal were becoming friends? Now that was an amazing thought. They seemed to be getting along better, although now there was no urgency to force them to cast aside their bickering.

Kathy found herself thinking of John and McKay. Yes, there were similarities, except in this case they were both scientists with their own individual traits as well. Still, the parallels were amusing.

Jon's house of cards collapsed, and he groaned in frustration. Neal looked smug as he stared down at his Rubik's Cube.

"Told you so," he said.

Jon flung the scattered cards at him, but it's hard to make fluttering paper into anything lethal.

Kathy laughed and volunteered to help Jon start again. "But why don't we try for an ordinary house before we tackle the Eiffel Tower, hm?"

Neal snickered, and within moments he was dragged into the construction of a card house.

**…**

John was thrown to the floor for the fourth time. Or was it the sixth? He wasn't really keeping count.

"You're distracted," Teyla stated, looking down from where she had her foot planted on John's throat.

John lifted his eyebrows. "You don't say," he rasped.

Teyla stepped off him and offered an arm up. Her strong fingers gripped his forearm, and with little effort the smaller woman hauled John to his feet.

"Tell me," Teyla said. "Whatever troubles you is keeping you from focusing. You only bring more misery on yourself by not resolving it."

"That's just it: I don't know how," John admitted. He and Teyla split off, sitting down on opposite-facing benches. Each picked up a water bottle and started guzzling. They had been at this for a while.

"Is it what happened to Major Lorne's team?" Teyla asked between gulps.

"No, it's not that," John said. "Well, it _is_ that, but that's not what really bothers me right now." He looked down at his knees as he thought. Teyla watched him, waiting.

"What do you think of her, Teyla?" John finally asked.

"Think of whom?" Teyla replied.

"Kathy."

"She confuses you?" Teyla asked, her own head tilting curiously.

John shrugged helplessly. "I don't know what to make of her!" he exclaimed, his frustration with the situation finally coming out. "She's so… _different_, y'know? But she's also _not_, and I can't figure out what's changed, what makes her draw so many people towards her, and not one of them the same. I can't figure her out, Teyla!"

Teyla smiled wisely and she leaned forward, propping her elbows up on her knees.

"Perhaps," she said, "the best way to find out is to be drawn in yourself."

John looked at Teyla as though she were crazy. Though to live in this place, you kinda had to be.

"Teyla, when you run reconnaissance on someone, you don't become their best friend," he said. "I don't even know anything about her! Well, a little, but it doesn't count for much."

"Kathy is not your enemy, John," Teyla replied. "That should be reason enough to have at least some amount of faith in her. You knew each other as children, did you not? And you were close?"

"Practically siblings," John replied. "You just had to look at us to see that we were up to no good."

"Then why are you so uncertain of her now?"

"Because… well, I don't know, Teyla. She's different… I'm different. I mean, when we were kids, I wanted to study old books and rocks with doodles on 'em. I've changed a lot since then, Teyla. There's no way Kathy hasn't changed just as much. And she's hiding something, I can feel it."

"Everyone hides something, John," Teyla pointed out. "And always for a reason. Perhaps she is afraid."

"She doesn't strike me as the type who'd be afraid, Teyla," John said. He paused as he thought of that look she gave him back in the office two weeks ago. "Then again…"

"What is it that makes you hesitate, John?" Teyla asked. "Do you not like her?"

"No, it's not that, I like her, at least I guess so… I don't know," John confessed. "It's complicated."

"That seems to be a favorite word of the peoples of Earth," Teyla remarked. "Perhaps it is time you found out how you truly feel about Kathy. And remember, you cannot learn a woman's heart unless she lets you into it. Kathy is not someone who shuts others out, I have learned, at least not by habit. In fact, she was one of the most welcoming people in Atlantis when my people first came here more than three years ago.

"She understood us, not as your anthropologists understood our culture, but she understood us for who we _are_. For that many Athosians love her. They have frequently asked that she come see them, but often she is busy, and wormhole travel is something that unnerves her, she has said."

John looked at Teyla with a puzzled expression. "I thought you said you never met Kathy."

"Not personally, no," Teyla replied. "But I have heard my people speak of her, especially the children. And since you introduced us at lunch two weeks ago, I have taken the opportunity to know her better. She is a delightful woman, it is a shame I hadn't met her before. She has a very enjoyable personality."

Teyla paused, looking thoughtful and somber. "That is another thing," she said. "John, you are searching for a reason to trust in Kathy, for you are not so certain that you know her. Well, this is the reason I offer: Aiden trusted her. If that is not enough, then I do not know what will be."

That stabbed John's heart, right in the place where it hurt. But it was a good sort of pain, he supposed, the kind that woke you up and jolted you back into awareness.

_Ford had trusted Kathy._ Teyla was right. If that wasn't reason enough to trust the woman, then nothing would be.

John nodded at the Athosian. "Thanks, Teyla."

Teyla nodded back. "You're welcome, John," she replied. She nodded to the poles, a grin flashing across her face. "Again?"

John shrugged. "What have I got to lose?" he said, hauling himself to his feet. "Other than every whole bone in my body."

Teyla chuckled, swinging the sticks in her hands easily, making them cut through the air with a _thwump thwump_ that made John think of a helicopter. He took his stance, feet placed firm, sticks prepared for the coming blows.

"Ready?" Teyla asked.

"Ready."

She launched herself at him like a cat.

**…**

Major Crawford was walking down a hallway. There were an awful lot of them in Atlantis, he had noticed. He wasn't going any particular place—one of his men had busted a leg, so Crawford's team was off-duty while he rested it up.

He came around a corner and found Major Lorne, leaning up against a wall with an open sketchbook in his hand.

"Ah, our fabulous artiste at a-work, I see," Crawford exclaimed as he came up, deliberately pushing in a phony Italian accent.

His fellow Major looked over at him. "No moustache?" he asked dryly. "I thought all Italians favored those."

Crawford chuckled and dropped the accent. "Man, I'm not Italian. I'm about as Italian as Ancient Japan." He leaned up against the wall next to his comrade. "How ya doin', Evan?" he asked.

Evan shrugged. "Fine," he said. "Already picking up signs of cabin fever in my team."

"Life's gotta suck for you right now," Crawford said. "Or death. Gotta admit, when I thought about talking to ghosts, this is not what I pictured."

Evan laughed. "Story of my life."

"Well hey, at least that means it's full of surprises!" Crawford pointed out.

Evan shook his head, a light smile turning his lips upward. It didn't stay. "Well, that's not always the greatest thing," he told Crawford. "Sometimes I can't help but wonder where on earth all the normalcy's gone."

"Probably back to Earth," Crawford replied. "I suppose that's where it belongs."

By mutual agreement the brothers-in-arms slipped into a silence, the only sound the gentle scratch of Evan's pencil against the sketchbook's paper.

"For a Marine, you're not half bad, Crawford," Evan remarked. Though there was a slight teasing note, Crawford knew it was meant as a compliment.

One corner of his lips went up in a half-smile. "Well, I'd have to say just about the same for you, Evan."

"Thanks." Evan closed his sketchbook and walked away. Crawford watched him go, unconsciously standing at-ease. He caught his action and chuckled softly, then turned and headed for the infirmary to check up on his man.

Scientists were the clumsiest specimens of humanity, he had decided. Anyone else would have seen that ten-foot hole.

**…**

John came out into the sunny, well-lit mess hall. Naturally the first person his eyes lighted on was Kathy. Something about her continually drew his gaze. Of course, in this case what brought his attention was that Kathy and her tablemate—Dr. Keller—were laughing uproariously.

And by that, he meant _uproariously_. John didn't think he had ever seen Dr. Keller laughing so hard. Kathy was pounding on the table, and between deep belly laughs she managed to wheeze a few words to Dr. Keller, setting them both off again.

John watched this for about a minute before deciding to go up and find out what was so funny. Also, they were kind of weirding people out. The disturbed folk usually ended up cracking a smile and laughing too, but John knew they were wondering what the joke was about.

He walked up to the table just as another round started off. Kathy looked up at him, her red face holding a pair of vibrantly sparkling eyes. "Hi John!" she greeted him cheerily. Dr. Keller giggled from behind her hands.

John looked down at Kathy warily. "What's so funny?" he asked.

Kathy shook her head, the occasional breathless laugh slipping out. "You wouldn't get it, John," she chuckled. "This is inside jokes within inside jokes within another platoon of inside jokes, generously spiced with multiple fandom references."

"And hilarity," Dr. Keller added, somehow having managed to gather enough breath to form words.

"Yes, and the topping of hilarity, mustn't forget the hilarity."

Keller snorted so hard John thought it had to hurt.

"Trust me, John, you would get lost in a verbal maze," Kathy told him.

Dr. Keller giggled from behind the supposed safety of her hands. John guessed she was using them as sound mufflers. They weren't working too well.

"What sort of references?" he asked.

"Well, not including the inside jokes, which is really what it all funny, we have so far mashed up classic Avengers comics…" She was counting on her fingers.

"Know that," John said.

"Doctor Who…"

"Don't know that."

"Firefly…"

"There is no way anybody _couldn't_ know that."

"Oh, you'd be surprised. Lord of the Rings…"

"Sort of familiar with that."

"And Gilbert and Sullivan?"

John blinked at her. "Who?"

"You know, the opera writers with a penchant for rhyming. _I am the very model of a modern Major General!_"

"Oh gaw, that song," John said, cringing away in horror.

"Then you had better leave," Kathy said. "Loki has been singing lines from _H.M.S. Pinafore_ and Thor is Buttercup."

John stared at her. "How is this funny?" he demanded. "It's—blasphemy!"

"Oh, the inside jokes make it even better," Kathy replied. "You should hear the duet between Hawkeye and Legolas."

"I'm out of here," John said, and promptly bolted. At a brisk walk, of course. He didn't want anyone to think he was _running away_ from a couple of ladies who were _butchering_ his beloved Avengers.

Kathy leaned over the table and whispered something into Keller's ear, and they both went off howling again. John shook his head. Girls. No respect for their comic book superheroes.

Kathy watched John go, laughing even though her belly had long ago started its complaints.

"I hurt," Jennifer moaned and giggled at the same time. "I don't think I've laughed that hard in ages."

"Oh yeah, I really needed that," Kathy giggled. "Laughter's good for the soul."

"Don't I know it," Jennifer replied. "I don't think I've ever been happier than I am right now."

Kathy beamed over at Jennifer. "You're my _best_ friend, Jennifer."

Jennifer looked back at her for a moment. For some reason she didn't feel surprised. "I know," she said.

* * *

><p>Turrah, can't believe I got this in on time! Considering that I didn't get any editing done until yesterday. Oh yeah, doing this by the skin of my teeth. Which is kind of hard to reach past the braces, actually.<p>

I'm not sure that I've written this many scenes and POVs in one chapter before. It was challenging and also fun. And Crawford's back again! :) He grew on me in the time he was away, so here he is, returned.

By the way, I haven't mixed classic Marvel with Doctor Who with Firefly with Lord of the Rings with Gilbert and Sullivan. My brain just might start, though. Well, something to keep me entertained in the late hours of the night (or wee hours of the morning. I'm a bit of a night owl).

I do love rhymes, that's why I enjoy Gilbert and Sullivan so much. Touch, such, crutch, Dutch.

Same time next week!


	14. Starting Point

Kathy couldn't escape her nightmare until 7:00am, when the shrieking of her alarm pulled her to safety. She sat bolt-upright amongst her tangled sheets, shaking. Slowly regaining awareness of where she was (and making certain that it was _real_), Kathy wiped the sweat off her forehead and got out of bed, standing on trembling legs.

"That was bad," she groaned, voice cracked from overnight disuse. She ran her fingers through her tangled hair—she had forgotten to braid it last night—and stumbled into the bathroom, hoping a hot shower would wash away the memory of her nightmare.

Kathy wondered if the intensity of her dreams was due to her involvement with the higher-up workings of Atlantis. She'd been doing that for a few weeks now, and she had noticed that with each one that had passed, her nightmares grew worse. Her subconscious knew what she feared.

Kathy hoped she had made it clear that she was only there to help with advice. She hadn't actually done any hands-on work. Just the way she wanted it. Just the way…

Kathy stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in a towel. She stared at her dripping reflection in the steamy mirror, shivering at the haunted eyes that stared right back.

She got dressed and after combing her hair decided to let it air-dry. It wasn't as if there were some dress-code regulation that forbade it. She did get some funny looks, though.

Chuck, actually _in the mess hall_ rather than the control room, waved Kathy over. "Or are you meeting with someone else?" he asked.

"Actually, no," Kathy told him, and joined the technician. "All alone, my Canadian friend?"

"Apparently people don't appreciate the standard friendliness for which we Canadians are known," Chuck said remorsefully. "That, and McKay has pretty much crushed our reputation. One bad apple to ruin a basket, eh?"

"Oh, McKay's not _that_ bad," Kathy said. Chuck gave her a look. "Okay, okay, so maybe he _is_, but don't you think his people skills have improved just a _little_ over the years?"

"Minuscully." Chuck shrugged then, as though deciding to brush the matter of McKay aside. "I see you're going for a new look."

"Yep," Kathy said, stirring large portions of brown sugar and craisons into her steaming bowl of oatmeal. "I call it 'fresh out of the shower'."

"Also known as 'I don't give a darn about hair dryers', eh?" Chuck grinned.

"Oh, good one!" Kathy said, pointing at him with her spoon.

Chuck laughed softly. A brief pause in the conversation existed while both attacked their breakfasts of thick oatmeal. It was a little stickier than Kathy preferred, but it wasn't the worst stuff she had eaten. Chuck had added about half a bottle of maple syrup to his bowl, and never would a clam be happier.

"So, how are you doing this morning, Kathy?" Chuck asked as he picked up his coffee.

"Okay," Kathy answered evasively, gaze lingering a little too long on her bowl.

Chuck frowned, mug stopping halfway between the table and his mouth. "Nightmares again?"

Kathy sighed and nodded in the affirmative. Chuck had always been good at reading her; he credited it to the fact that she behaved so much like his sister. "They've been getting worse," she confessed.

Chuck's concern showed through his entire face. "You should see the psychiatrist," he said.

"I know…" Kathy looked away. "But… well, I can't stand their probing. Also, I think the guy who came in to replace Dr. Heightmeyer really hates me. He looks at me like I should burn in Hell or something."

Chuck looked alarmed. "He does?"

"Frequently. It's disturbing, so that plays a large factor in why I won't go in there."

"You haven't talked to Colonel Carter about this?"

"I don't have any proof. He just stares at me; not anyone else. I don't worry about it too much, though. I only see him once or twice a week, and I never stay to chat. He says I am 'being evasive of my problems'."

Chuck snickered. "Yeah, that does sound like something he would say."

"Hey, I aced my psychology class in high school, and you don't hear me talking creepy stuff like that," Kathy said.

Chuck nodded in agreement. "It's a stereotype."

"And unfortunately there are people who actually follow it. Oy." Kathy drained her coffee mug, thus finishing her breakfast. "Well, time for me to go. Research and all that."

"Yeah, how's that going?"

Kathy pulled a face. "Like miserable. We haven't made any headway in over two months. But at least we know what _doesn't_ work."

"Going at it like Edison, eh?"

"Yup. Fail, fail, and fail again. Let's hope we can reinvent the light bulb before we're dead." She turned and left, waving goodbye. "See ya, Chuck."

"Bye, Kathy," Chuck called after her. He smiled lightly and went back to the remnants of his breakfast. Once Kathy was out of sight his brow furrowed deeply in worry.

**…**

John had awoken about three hours before Kathy. He rolled out of his bed and performed his usual exercises, then half an hour later found Ronon and ran through Atlantis' catwalks with him. Ronon, as always, ran fastest and furthest. Still John was determined to someday outrun the dreadlocked giant—without the aid of some freakish super-drug.

After the run he was off to shower and get into uniform for the day. Then he pulled on a coat and went out for a walk on top of one of the piers, the only light coming from Atlantis. The water looked strange and hostile in the darkness, and John looked at it with an apprehensiveness he didn't feel during the day.

At some point he became aware of Teyla standing next to him, and silently the two respective leaders kept their stance, frail human bodies battling the relentless force called the wind.

By some unspoken agreement they both turned around and went back inside. John unzipped his jacket a little at the rapid increase of temperature, and he and Teyla went for the mess hall. Neither made an attempt to start conversation, as both could tell neither was really in the mood.

They and Ronon had already sat down at their table when Rodney trudged in, scenting the coffee rather than looking for it.

"Ah, the great scientist doth grace us with his presence," John said sarcastically.

"Wonder what we did to deserve it?" Ronon remarked, and he and John snickered.

Rodney glared at them as he approached, already revived by the aromas of his coffee. John knew he would go back for a second and third cup before breakfast was over.

Rodney's arrival, as it usually did most mornings, started off the conversation. Or bickering, to put it more accurately.

"So, how is Major Lorne's team?" Rodney asked as he returned with his second cup of coffee.

"Better," John replied. "Going stir-crazy, though." His teammates grimaced with sympathy. They knew cabin fever far too well.

"Has there been any sight of the attackers?" Teyla asked.

John shook his head. "None," he replied.

"Do you think what's-her-name's plan is going to work?" Rodney asked.

"It wasn't a plan so much as an idea, Rodney," John answered. "And her name is Kathy."

"Kathy, that's right. I can never remember."

John looked at him. "You know, this is alarming, coming from an astrophysicist," he said dryly. Rodney glared at him.

John glanced down at his watch, confirming his internal clock. "Seven hundred hours, we leave in fifty minutes." He stood up. "See you in the gear room."

A chorus of farewells, jumbled together in a conglomerate mess of familiarity, followed him out of the mess hall.

**…**

Sam Carter had awoken at much the same time as John, but only with the difference of falling asleep at a much later hour.

She had been composing a letter to Daniel. He was pretty much the only one from Earth that she could really write to, and besides she knew that he would read the letters to her other former teammates. How, she could not answer, but she knew.

Almost half of the letter would be cut out before she sent it, she had known that even as she was hastily tapping it down on her personal tablet. But she had to get her thoughts out somewhere, and how better to do it than to write a letter to Daniel. A letter that he would never get, of course.

Sometimes, very rarely, Sam needed to write down the thoughts in her head and just ponder them for a while. As swiftly and easily as she understood science and all things technologically complicated, she had never found emotions as easy to decipher.

So she would sometimes do this. It put the thoughts in a place outside of herself, and she could focus on one of them at a time without fear of forgetting the rest.

That's what she had been doing all night. Sorting things out. There was a lot of that to do—Atlantis was a big responsibility, and without time to just think the enormity of it would surely crush her. After all, she had only been promoted to a full-bird Colonel a few months ago.

So, waking up only a handful of hours after she had fallen asleep, she should have felt exhausted. Strangely enough, she didn't. Perhaps it had something to do with taking so many things off her mind. There was something soothing about writing letters to Daniel, Teal'c, and the rest. And Jack. Sam was certain that Daniel read her letters to Jack. How, again she couldn't tell, but she did.

At eight o'clock she was standing in the raised platform over the control room, watching as the first team to embark entered below. It was Colonel Sheppard's team this morning. McKay certainly couldn't be happy about that.

Her suspicions were confirmed as the sound of his loud complaining reached her ears.

Colonel Sheppard spotted her and nodded in greeting. "Morning, Colonel."

Sam nodded back. "Morning, Colonel."

"Are you two _ever_ going to stop doing that?" McKay grumbled. Sheppard shook his head with an amused snort.

He and Sam exchanged a few last words, then the 'Gate was dialed up and the team departed. As the hours passed by two more teams left, everything running smooth and regular as clockwork.

Then Sheppard dialed Atlantis back twelve minutes early and staggered through the 'Gate, covered with mud and blood almost beyond the point of recognition. He looked like he had just come out of a warzone.

And he was alone.

**…**

Sergeant O'Meara had apparently decided that the best thing he could do with his time was to follow Kathy around a medical research lab.

"You sure you don't have anything better to do?" Kathy asked him after about five minutes of him following her everywhere.

"No," O'Meara replied cheekily. "Nothing better at all." He grinned. "I seem to recall something about an undetermined leave thanks to a certain someone's suggestion."

"So this is your way of thanking me?" Kathy asked.

"Aye!"

Kathy rolled her eyes. "_Lotnaidí_."

"_Agus is breá liom gach duine chun é!_" O'Meara replied smugly.

Kathy shook her head and resigned herself to the fact that O'Meara could not be persuaded to leave.

Lt. Houser came skidding into the laboratory. "Doc! Sarge!" he exclaimed. "You need to come to the infirmary!"

O'Meara was already moving. Kathy, with a moment of hesitation, followed.

"What's happened, lad?" O'Meara barked as they all started to run.

"Colonel Sheppard, sir," Houser replied. "Came back through the 'Gate—alone." They entered a transporter, and O'Meara hit the appropriate location with his fist. "He looks like he crawled out of no-man's-land, sir."

O'Meara swore under his breath, then caught Kathy's eye and apologized. "Is that an exaggeration, Lieutenant?"

"No, Sergeant. Those words come from right out of Colonel Carter's mouth."

O'Meara's jaw clenched. "Hell."

He was at the lead when they burst into the infirmary. There seemed to be a whole flock of doctors around John, each with their separate job to do. Again Kathy was taken up by that feeling of uselessness.

The three of them—Kathy, O'Meara and Houser—circled around John and his cloud to join Colonel Carter and Major Lorne.

"Is it bad?" Kathy asked.

Both officers nodded grimly. "I've already sent a request to Earth for a Goa'uld healing device," Carter said.

"Do ye think it'll help, ma'am?" O'Meara asked.

"It's worth a shot."

Kathy looked over and between some of the shifting doctors caught a glimpse of John's mangled flesh. She swallowed.

"That is very bad," she said. "What could have done this?"

Carter shook her head. "I don't know."

Jennifer extracted herself from the crowd of doctors and made her way over to them. "There's a large amount of internal bleeding, and we've managed to stop some of it," she said. "Only one or two of his ribs _aren't_ broken, and about 90 percent of his body is deeply bruised.

"Most of the blood on him isn't his, though," she continued. "While he is seriously injured, very few of the wounds actually broke skin. We're running the blood samples through every test we can think of."

Kathy was listening to every word Jennifer said, but her eyes were firmly fixed on John, trying to piece together his image from the glimpses of him she could only occasionally see.

"And he's still alive?" Houser said wonderingly.

"Somehow. His job is to be tough, thank goodness," Jennifer said. "If we can get that healing device here soon enough, we can pull him through this. We might even be able to get him fit for duty again."

"Let's hope so," Colonel Carter replied.

John permanently out of action? The thought was more than Kathy could comprehend. John without the purpose he had sacrificed everything else to strive for. How could he survive if that was taken away?

"Major, take your team and search the planet Colonel Sheppard returned from," Colonel Carter ordered Lorne. "Go in a cloaked Jumper."

"I can't," Lorne said quietly.

"What?" Colonel Carter turned and stared at him.

"I can't," Major Lorne said again. "My team is dead, remember?"

Colonel Carter's eyes closed, and she swore softly. "Alright then, send Sergeant—"

"Major Crawford, ma'am."

"What?"

"If I can make a suggestion, ma'am, I would recommend Major Crawford's team," Lorne told her.

Colonel Carter's brow furrowed. "They study ruins, Major."

"No, ma'am, their scientist studies ruins. Crawford and his Marines are the among the best shots I've ever seen. They're trained for Black Ops, ma'am—they'd be doing that right now if they hadn't been sent to Atlantis instead."

Colonel Carter nodded. "I'll send them, then."

She left the infirmary. Lorne and the two men from his team stayed, watching with Kathy as the doctors did their work.

Major Crawford's team departed in a cloaked Jumper within fifteen minutes. The Goa'uld healing device was sent from Earth within thirty. It was a good thing John was heavily sedated, or his screams would have waken the dead.

The work went on for hours. At one point O'Meara asked Houser, who looked like he was struggling with keeping his face neutral, if he wanted to leave.

"No, sir," he replied shakily. "It wouldn't be right, sir. To leave the Colonel."

O'Meara nodded. "Just so, Lieutenant."

No one said anything more. Just watched. Eventually the other doctors drove them away, and apprehensively they waited outside until either news came about John or Crawford's team returned.

The 'Gate was dialed in thirty minutes later, and an exhausted Colonel Carter came in to speak with the team of Marines.

"Major, what news do you have?" Colonel Carter asked.

Major Crawford's face projected onto the screen, sent by the internal camera of the Jumper. He looked grim.

"Nothing good, Colonel," he said. "There's a village a few klicks away from the local Stargate, and it's been blown sky-high. A couple of us went in for a closer look, and we're more than certain that it was caused by C4."

An alarmed murmur ran through the control room. _C4?_

Colonel Carter could barely mask her alarm—and confusion.

"Did you detect any strange gasses or chemicals in the area? Something that could make someone do that?"

"You mean, something that could make Colonel Sheppard's team blow up a whole village? Not sure, ma'am. We're sending all the environmental data to you."

A technician nodded in confirmation as he received the data. He sent it immediately to a waiting lab.

"Is there any sign of Colonel Sheppard's team?" Colonel Carter asked.

"None, Colonel," Crawford replied. "None of any life, for that matter. But there are signs everywhere of battle."

"Keep looking, Major."

Major Crawford nodded and cut the connection.

Sam stood there for a moment, feeling so old and so tired. Was this how General O'Neill had felt whenever one of his teams had fallen into peril? General Hammond when they had been his?

A call came from the infirmary. Colonel Sheppard was awake. Turning and almost stumbling, Sam left the control room and headed back to the infirmary.

Sheppard was looked spitting mad and very bleary-eyed when Sam came in. He glared at her.

"Please explain to me what the _heck_ is going on here?" he snapped.

"We were hoping you could tell us that," Sam replied.

"Colonel Sheppard, do you know where you are?" Dr. Crane, Atlantis' new psychiatrist, was watching the colonel intently.

John looked around slowly. "The infirmary," he answered. "But why?"

Everyone sighed. "Oh no," Sam said.

"I was afraid this might happen," Dr. Crane told her.

John looked from one person to the next in bewilderment. Then an alarmed expression came to his face.

"Where's my team?"

* * *

><p>Sam's perspective was hardest to work with here. I wrote her some in another story, "The Serpent's Warning", but this is more than five years later for her, and she's in a totally different position.<p>

Also enjoyed writing some more Chuck (someone please tell me they caught the ehs), and hinting a little at the character I provided as his sister. Because of course Chuck has a sister! :)

Oh, and the translation of the brief conversation Kathy and O'Meara have in Irish is this:

_"Pest."_

_"And everyone loves me for it!"_


	15. Fires

Sammy Crawford could only shake his head at the sight spread out before him. The land was pockmarked and covered in ugly scars, smoke rising up from places fire never should have touched.

Crawford wondered if he had taken a step back in time. It felt like he was floating above the beginnings of a World War II no-man's-land. The only thing missing was the barbed wire strung between posts.

Or was it? Following his thought, a portion of the Jumper's view screen enlarged a point on the ground below, a jagged line of barbed wire-strung fence posts.

Not one member of the quartet of Marines spoke a word, but Crawford knew they were all thinking the same thing: this was a nightmare.

The ending of a nightmare, Crawford would think, and without knowing the middle or beginning they were completely at loss for an explanation. Nothing made sense. Some places were overgrown with what had to be decades of plant life, others had been used and used until that all could be seen was black mud, and still more were freshly opened and bleeding out their life.

Crawford had seen places like this before. His men had, too. And they were trained not to be affected, not to care. But no human being could look down at this without feeling _something._

"No lifesigns," Captain Stevens said. He looked over at his commander. "Doesn't make sense. This place has been used for so long, and so recently—where are all the people?"

"I don't know, Stevens," Crawford replied grimly. "But this many people causing this much steady damage to the land can't disappear into the blue."

"Something alien?"

"Something alien."

"I still can't get over how much we say that," Lieutenant Cook said.

He was in the back, checking the Jumper's supplies. It was a nervous habit of his. Ever since they got stranded on MG8-7481 and nearly starved to death, Lt. Cook always double-checked the Jumper's supplies. And triple-checked. And quadruple-checked.

No one said anything about it to the City shrinks. They understood Lt. Cook's oft-repeated action, and it only made them safer. Starvation was something they would never have to worry about again as long as Lt. Cook was on their team. Besides, it wasn't as if they hadn't developed their own nervous habits.

A run-in with Wraith during which he ran out of clips made Crawford carry at least three extra with him wherever he went.

Stevens every day at dawn and before he allowed himself to rest shot 50 bulls-eyes at the shooting range, because one day he had missed. His aim was only surpassed by Ronon Dex's.

And Lt. Samuels every 30 seconds, regular as clockwork, checked his six. Nobody knew why, nobody asked. Crawford was the only one who knew about Samuels' demotion from Captain, and what had brought it about. He never mentioned it, and neither did Samuels.

Oh yeah. A rare bunch of model Marines they were. Jarheads to the nth degree.

Something flashed on the HUD, with a shrill beeping to accompany it. Lt. Samuels stepped forward, head leaning in some in the space above and between Crawford's and Stevens' heads.

"Oh, that's more like it," Lt. Samuels said. "Energy spike, isn't that, sir?"

It took Crawford a moment to decipher the technobabble displayed. "No. Radiation."

"Oy vey," Stevens sighed. "Hasn't that muck caused enough trouble for us already?"

"I'd say so, but obviously the radiation doesn't agree with either you or me," Crawford replied.

"Are you sure it's radiation, sir?" Lt. Samuels asked. "That looks an awful lot like an energy spike to me."

"Well …" Crawford thought a request to the Jumper, and it took the image of the spike in question and relayed more detailed information. "See if you can make sense of that, Lieutenant."

Lt. Samuels focused on the readout, but not before tossing a glance over his shoulder. His intensity made Crawford uneasy, and as he occasionally glanced over at the image, trusting the little ship to correct itself, he was nagged by the feeling that the reading was familiar. Like he had seen something like it before.

It hit him like a thunderbolt. His mouth opened to shout warning, and the Jumper banked sharply, veering away from the dreaded location.

It was too late. The rolling wave of energy rushed after them and swallowed them up. Crawford and his team were gone.

**…**

"Where is my team?" John repeated.

His brain was disturbingly foggy, everyone around him was talking nonsense, and his team was nowhere in sight. His team being nowhere in sight always meant bad things. What bad things, he didn't really know. His mind wasn't doing so great with the details right now. But it meant bad, he knew that for sure.

His commander, Carter, was looking at him worriedly.

"Colonel, what's the last thing you remember?" she asked.

_Why is she calling me a corncob? She wants me to remember, last thing I remember…_

"This morning. Left for… X2I-3115."

"What else? Can you remember anything after that?"

"Could you be a little less impatient?" John snapped, and had the feeling he shouldn't have said that. He struggled with his tar-speed brain. "Talked with you before we left… went through the 'Gate…" He stopped and stared at her. "Where is my team?" he asked again.

Carter sighed. "We don't know, Colonel," she replied. "They left with you offworld; you came back alone. That's all we know, and apparently it's more than you know."

Dr. Crane looked at John thoughtfully. "Perhaps he is suffering amnesia as a result of his physical abuse," he suggested.

John didn't understand that, but everyone else seemed alarmed. "Doctor, Colonel Sheppard has undergone physical and emotional strain you've only read about in textbooks," Colonel Carter said. "That hasn't broken him. It could not possibly be the sole factor in his amnesia now."

"Everyone reaches a breaking point, Colonel Carter," Dr. Crane reminded her. "Even the soldier comes to the place where all he wants to do is run. And when there is nowhere to go but within yourself… you go."

John supposed that meant something to everyone else but him. Right now everything confused him. Except for one thing: his team was gone. Nobody knew where they were. Something terrible could be happening to them, right now. They had to be found!

John had the worst twisting sort of feeling inside, like some part of him _knew_ what was happening. Knew that they were gone.

"No!" John yelled, his voice rough. He tried to get off the bed, but all he succeeded in doing was rolling off and crashing to the floor. Pain exploded everywhere in his body, and the shock of it was so unexpected that John screamed before he snapped his mouth shut and gritted his teeth.

Everything was chaos. People were running around him, closing in, grabbing him. His brain went into an overworked state of terror and he thrashed about wildly, trying to throw these suddenly threatening people as far away from himself as he could.

Someone grabbed his arm and stuck it out straight, making it poke out from the rest of his body like a funny pink stick. Something glinting plunged into it, and John recoiled away in shock. After a moment's hesitation, he was released and everyone backed away.

John was breathing heavily, and he _hurt_, oh he hurt. Then everything went sort of fuzzy and began to swirl all around. He felt dizzy, and as things began to go dark his trembling limbs relaxed.

Before everything went away, John heard someone say, "It must be something to do with the amnesia, Colonel. He can't think clearly."

"That's what worries me, Dr. Crane."

**…**

"Hi, Chuck," Kathy said as she came up behind him.

The technician glanced up at her before refocusing on his work. "Hi, Kathy. Thought you'd be down at the infirmary?"

"They don't have much use for researchers in unrelated subjects," Kathy said, frowning. "I thought I'd come up here, see what's happening."

"Major Crawford's team was scheduled to check in with an update five minutes ago," Chuck said. "Every fifteen minutes he's contacted us, but nothing new has come up." He frowned, brow creasing as he looked at the Gate. "So far he's been very punctual, this is the first that he's been late."

"Maybe you…"

"Should tell Colonel Carter? Already have. She said to wait another minute, then dial."

"And?"

"It's been a minute." Chuck keyed in the address for X2I-3115 and the wormhole engaged. Several technicians' eyebrows went up in alarm as well as their tones, and immediately the shield was put in place.

"What's going on?" Kathy asked.

"Radiation, huge amounts," Chuck said. "This wasn't coming through before." He put his hand up to his headset. "Major Crawford, this is Atlantis, come in." He gave the necessary pause. "Major Crawford, this is Atlantis, come in…"

Kathy discovered her teeth were in danger of tearing of the inside of her cheek. She didn't care. She had heard so much about this nightmare situation, the desperate hoping against hope and crushing fear as you called… and no one answered.

"Major Crawford? Major Crawford, this is Atlantis, please respond." Chuck was growing increasingly agitated. His knuckles had long gone white.

_Crawford. _Kathy remembered him now. She had met him on the same morning she had first run into John again. His first name was Sammy, and he thought absolutely no one should know. She had liked him, he had a good sense of humor.

This was the man on the other side of the 'Gate right now? He and his team?

"Major Crawford, this is Atlantis, please respond. Major Crawford, this is Atlantis, come in please…"

* * *

><p>I wish I could have made this chapter longer, but when I tried, everything seemed really awkward, so I didn't. :( Oh well. I really wanted to leave you with something longer, since I'm not going to be able to post any new chapters for the next couple of weeks. I'm going down to my grandparents for two weeks, so while I will likely get some writing done, you won't be seeing the fruits of it right away.<p>

Hopefully the visit with my grandparents will juice up my writer's bug. Acreage of woodland is always good for inspiration. And then of course there is Dragon's Place… mm, I'll have to tell you guys about that one sometime.

So, until I return, fare thee well and have a fantastic time of it! :) I look forward to writing and talking with you all again soon! Bye!


	16. Adding to the Fold

"Mom, do you think _this_ cook will be good?" Johnny asked, his seven-year-old voice bearing tones of exasperation. "All the ones Dad picks aren't no good!"

"Aren't any good, Johnny," Beth corrected kindly.

"Aren't any good," Johnny repeated obediently. He frowned. "Why can't _you_ do the interviews? You're so much better at it than Dad is."

"This way, Johnny, I can watch what the cook is doing without them putting on a show, knowing that they might be working for me."

"Oh, so this way you know what they're doing when they think you're not looking."

"Something like that, Johnny."

"But isn't that dishonest?" Johnny wondered.

Beth stopped. Johnny did too, still swinging the hand that held his mother's.  
>"You know, Johnny, I hadn't thought of it that way before," she told him. "I'll have to think about it."<p>

Johnny nodded seriously, then his nostrils flared and he stood up on tippy-toes to breathe in deeply. "_MMMM!_ That smells good, Mom! Let's go see what it is!" He started to dash off, yanking on his mother's arm.

Beth slowed him down. It wasn't because she wanted him to stop, she just couldn't keep up. "Whoa, slow down there, Eager Beaver," she chuckled. "Mom can't go as fast as you, remember?"

Johnny remembered. Mom had a limp; that meant she walked funny, and she moved slower than other people. Dad and Mom said it was from a car accident when Mom was young. Mom had scars on her face from it too, but Johnny thought she was absolutely beautiful.

"Can I run ahead, Mom?" Johnny asked impatiently.

"Yes, Johnny, you may," Beth said, "only don't make a ruckus."

The seven-year-old was off like a shot. Beth chuckled and shook her head slightly, a wide and loving smile on her face. She set after her hyper-speed son.

The kitchen smelled wonderful. Not heavenly, that seemed too light a descriptive for it, but _earthy_. Whatever the prospective cook was creating, it was thick and hearty. A good choice after the long and eventful day the Sheppard family was about to finish.

Sheri, the maid and Beth's dear friend, gave Beth a nod of acknowledgement and greeting. Beth returned it with a smile. The woman hoping to be hired as the Sheppard family cook—Beth felt terrible for not remembering her name, but she knew it was something German—did not give a greeting to Beth, so focused on her work was she.

Johnny snuck up beside the woman and attempted to sneak some mashed potatoes out of the bowl with his finger. He was gently but quickly slapped away, and he looked at his mother with wide eyes.

"She's fast, Mom!" he exclaimed.

Beth laughed. "Faster than me, that's for sure," she agreed. "My goodness, ma'am, you seem like a beehive all in one!"

The woman at the stove turned her face away from the steam and gave Beth a pleasantly surprised smile. "_Guten tag,_" she said, her accented tones warm and friendly.

"Thank you," Beth smiled back, "And to you likewise."

"I do not believe I know you," the woman said.

"No," Beth replied. She offered a hand. "I'm Beth."

The woman took her hand and shook it, possessing a not-at-all surprisingly strong grip. "Magda," she introduced herself. She gestured to a little boy, perhaps five, playing with a wooden car on the floor. "That is Albrecht, my son. _Hallo sagen, Albrecht._"

Albrecht looked up for a moment, fixing a solemn gaze on Beth. "_Hallo._" Then he was back to his car.

Magda's face was pinched, and she chewed on her lip. Beth's face softened in sympathy. "You worry about him."

"Albrecht… he is too serious," Magda said carefully. "Something is wrong with him, I fear." She turned abruptly back to the meat and sauce in her pan. "_Es tut mir leid,_" she said, then shook her head and corrected herself in English. "I'm sorry. This is not for you to fret over."

"There is nothing to apologize for, Magda," Beth replied. "I'm a mother, too." She smiled, mischief twinkling in her eyes. "In fact, it was my little scamp who tried to steal your mashed potatoes a moment ago."

An indignant squeak. "Mom!"

Beth grinned unapologetically, and it was clear she and Johnny were cut from the same cloth. Magda laughed softly, the taut look in her face easing somewhat. Beth wondered what troubled her so; it was certainly more than this job audition, or even her concern for her son's welfare. No, it ran deeper than that.

Did that mean Magda was the sort of woman Beth didn't want in her house? She didn't think so.

Johnny ventured out from his hiding place behind one of the counters, approaching Albrecht. He was sneaking, Beth could tell from the way he walked, the same way he did when he crept up behind his little brother David. She opened her mouth to tell Johnny to stop, it wasn't nice to frighten strangers, but he jumped and shouted "Boo!" before she could utter a word.

Strangely enough, Albrecht gave no response. Magda bit her lip again and turned back to her cooking, that worried look returned to her face.

Johnny's head tilted in puzzlement. "Hey, what's wrong with you?" he asked.

"Johnny," Beth began, a scolding note in her voice until she realized that Johnny was just being curious. "Johnny, say _hallo_. That's hello in German."

"Oh." Johnny shifted his feet, then leaned his chin forward just a mite, clearing his throat. "_Hallo,_" he said hesitantly.

Albrecht's head lifted a little, and he turned to look at Johnny. "_Hallo,_" he replied.

Johnny grinned happily, excited at the prospect of a new friend. "Hi!" he said. "I'm Johnny!"

Albrecht looked at him blankly. Johnny paused, then pointed at himself. "Johnny," he said again. "I'm Johnny."

Albrecht tentatively pointed at himself. "Albrecht," he answered.

"That's a weird name," Johnny stated. He looked at Albrecht for a moment. "But I guess it's normal in Germany."

A lesson learned so early on. Beth felt very proud of her boy. Johnny looked over at her. "What do I say next?"

Beth stopped. She barely knew any German, and well, wouldn't it be best to ask—

"_Was haben Sie?_" Magda said, looking over at Johnny. "Say that."

"_Was haben Sie?_" Johnny repeated haltingly.

Albrecht's face lit up with a smile, and Beth wondered why Magda released a tiny sob. "_Das ist mein Auto!_" Albrecht said excitedly, holding his wooden toy up. "_Es ist von meinem Zuhause in Deutschland, aber Deutschland ist nicht mehr mein Zuhause. Mama nicht sagen warum._"

Magda translated, but Beth had the feeling she didn't relate all of it.

Albrecht paused a moment, then held out his car in offering. "_Spielen?_" he asked. Johnny smiled. This was something both of them could understand.

**…**

"Colonel?"

John's eyes struggled open, and through his pounding headache he peered at Major Lorne. Well, that was different. Usually it was Teyla or Rodney sitting there, or Elizabeth—

No. Not thinking about Elizabeth.

"Lorne?" John rasped, and instantly regretted it. His throat felt like a rabid cat had been dragged through it. He vaguely remembered something about trying to escape, a body pile and something sinking into his arm.

"You know who I am, that's good," Lorne said dryly. "Thought you might have forgotten who I was too while you were taking your nap."

"Why would I forget you?" John puzzled.

"You've been tentatively diagnosed with trauma-induced amnesia," Lorne explained.

John snorted. "Trauma-induced? Are you serious? If anything was going to do me in, it would have been that time four years ago when a giant bug attached itself to my neck."

Lorne's smile shared in John's wry attitude. "I know what you mean, sir. Nevertheless, the fact does stand that you don't remember anything that happened today."

"I don't?" John asked. He paused. "What day _is_ today?"

"Tuesday," Lorne answered. "And yes, you don't. Before you went all raging Wookiee on us, you could barely even recall the planet you had gone to some hours before."

"Huh." John winced as he became increasingly aware of how sore he felt. "Hey Lorne, did someone take a hammer to my bones? Cause it sure feels like it."

"Something like that."

John stopped, looked at Lorne with an alarmed expression. "Where's my team."

Lorne lifted his hands in a wary, settle-down-boy gesture. "Colonel, please don't try to attack me again, you'll only hurt yourself."

"Lorne, where is my team?"

"That's what we're trying to find out," Lorne said. "Now sir, please stay calm, this is where you freaked out the last couple times and we had to sedate you. Your team went through the 'Gate this morning, and you dialed back an hour early, but you came through alone."

"Then, my team?" _Gone, gone,_ something inside of John wailed.

Lorne shook his head. "We don't know," he said quietly. "We sent Major Crawford and his Marines to look for them, but…" He shook his head. "All we're getting through the 'Gate now is massive radiation readings."

"Define 'massive'," John said.

"More than enough to fry any Jumper or MALP we may send through, if not completely disintegrate it," Lorne replied. His face was grim and guilty as he held John's eye. "I recommended Crawford's team for the mission, sir. Now they're dead."

John's stomach dropped. _Dead._ But, if Crawford's team was gone, then…

"And my team?" he whispered, afraid to hear Lorne's answer.

Lorne sighed. "If they were still on that world, Colonel, I have no idea how they could have possibly survived. But we don't know what happened, you can't remember, and it'll be months before radiation levels are low enough to send even a MALP."

"What about the _Daedalus_?"

"_Daedalus_ is in the Milky Way right now, it'll be another two months before it's here again."

John cursed helplessly. "There's got to be _something_ we can do!" he exclaimed.

"There is," Lorne agreed. "You can remember."

"I can't," John said. He scrabbled around his head, snatching for anything, but all he could remember was a few words exchanged with Carter, an address, stepping through the 'Gate with his teammates…

"Dangit, I can't! Can't," John burst out in frustration. "I want to remember, but I can't."

"That's the thing with trauma-induced amnesia, Colonel," Lorne said. "Your brain doesn't want to remember. You may be consciously trying to recall, but your subconscious is in control of the whole thing."

"Well, how am I supposed to fix that?" John demanded.

"I don't know, sir," Lorne admitted. "Maybe Dr. Crane knows something. He'll probably be here any minute."

John scowled. "Shrink's the last thing I want, Lorne."

"You're not the only one, Colonel." Lorne rose from his chair, and it looked like he was about to go.

John decided to let him leave. Not like he needed Lorne for anything anyway. He paused as a thought occurred to him. "Lorne?"

Lorne didn't move from where he had just stood. "Sir?"

"Why'd you wait?" John asked. In the three-some years he had known Lorne, the man had never sat out the hours by an injured John's bedside. So why do so now?

"I couldn't help out in the field, sir," Lorne explained himself. A dry smile. "Dead, you know. And I know it's always better to come to with company. So I figured I'd at least make an inadequate substitute for your team."

John tilted his head down slightly in gratitude. "Thanks, Major."

"No problem, Colonel."

Dr. Crane appeared at the door and Lorne made himself scarce. While Heightmeyer had been a little too prying but overall well-liked, Crane was downright terrifying. John had no idea how he had gotten here, three doctorates aside.

"Colonel Sheppard, I see you're awake," Dr. Crane made his astute observation as he approached.

John restrained from calling him Captain Obvious and nodded in affirmative. "Major Lorne filled me in on what's happening," he told the shrink. "You here to help me remove the amnesia?"

"Yes, of course, Colonel," Dr. Crane said, setting up the electric notepad before him. "Now, let's begin, naturally, at the beginning. What do you think your motivations could have been, for your subconscious to so strongly want to suppress these events?"

John had no idea what that had to do with the current situation.

* * *

><p>So, hello everyone! I'm back.<p>

Mostly because good ol' sateda has been persistently prodding me off my patootie, and as a result I realized I've neglected you for three months. *horror* Oy. Can I blame _The Avengers_ for this? No? Oh well, worth a try.

As always, I use the translator section of for my conversation pieces in other languages. So if you want to know what's being said, just go there, copy-n-paste, and voila! And if there's anyone out there who actually knows German and this is wrong, I would love to hear from you. I really, really would. Because frankly I only have the vaguest idea of what I'm doing.

One of the very few pros about _Stargate Atlantis_ being cancelled before its time is that much of the personal history of the main characters is unknown, John to a surprising extent. So… headcanons and original characters. Yes.


End file.
